Life's a Bet
by kendall
Summary: The newsies meet a girl and Race falls head over heels. But there's something about her Jack far from trusts, and not without good reason...


"Life's a Bet" By Me, Kendall  
*for my friends, the newsies chicks--  
I hope you like it (it took me long enough)*   
Racetrack Higgins adjusted his black cabby hat around his dark hair and glanced at the morning's headlines. Nothing too interesting today. One two-inch story mentioned a baby that cried in a tenement all night. He gathered up his papers and jogged over to the curb yelling, "Baby screams in terror, none listen to cries of pain!" Three people seemed interested in the story and bought papers. They quickly grabbed a copy and threw him the penny fee. While two of the people simply hurried off with the paper under their arm, the third immediately opened it up and began searching for the "improved" story. When he didn't find anything, he began to get angry.   
"Hey! There's nothing like that in here!" He made a grab for Race. Race narrowly missed it, jumping over a barrel and running as fast as he could. That's the down side to being so good at hawking headlines: when people discovered the truth.   
Race glanced behind him and noticed the man wasn't chasing him anymore. He bumped into his best friend, and usual selling partner, Kid Blink, named for the eye patch over his left eye.  
"Heya Race," he said.  
"Hey Kid," said Race. He moved to sit down on the front stoop of a building. He was out of breath from his chase.   
"Somebody catch on ta youse?" Kid Blink asked.  
"Yeah, page 12, da baby story."  
Kid glanced at the story with a muffled laugh, then went back to the crowd yelling, "Read all about why child cries in feah!" Two people walked up to buy papers, then sauntered away.  
"Hey," said Kid, "dat woiked pretty good."  
Race grinned. He set down his papes as he stuck a cigar into his mouth.  
"Well, I'm out," said Kid. "You wanna come wid me to Tibby's?"  
Race glance at his stack of papers, "I still got 10 left, den I'm gonna go to da tracks."  
"See ya later den. We'll keep a window open for you to get in."  
"So long." Race watched as Kid walked off. He sighed as he picked up the remaining papers and went back to work.   
  
Finally he had finished selling. He kept an eye out for the guy who had chased him and any suspicious cops that he might have told. He took out his pocket watch. Eight-thirty. He'd be able to make it in time for the first race if he ran. It was a total of 3 miles there and back by the roads, but Race knew how to get there faster by using shortcuts. Eventually, he could see the long curve of the track and hear the shouts of all the people. He ran up to the betting window and hastily put down his money on a horse. The man looked at Race skeptically.  
"You sure son? That horse is 25-1. And you just put down two dollars."   
"I know mista, you gonna gimme my receipt or what?" The man shook his head as he handed Race the ticket. Race walked over to the rail. A young man was sitting against it.  
"Who ya bettin on?"  
"What's it to ya?" Race asked. The race was going to start in five minutes and he was impatient.  
The man put up his hands defensively. "Hey, hey, I didn't mean nuttin. Just curious, dat's all. My name's Joe." He held out a hand.   
"Race," said Race, he shook it.  
"Yeah, what about it?" asked the kid.  
Race laughed. "It's just a nickname, Racetrack."  
Joe grinned. "I like it." He saw Race's ticket. "You're betting on number 4?!"  
"She's been doing pretty good in the last races," Race shrugged.  
"You mean she's finally been finishing?"  
"Well, yeah." Race pointed at the starting line. "Hey dis is my race."  
He had to admit his horse, Dance Horse Call, didn't look like much. But there was something about how she was in a rush to start the race; as if she had an important date she had to meet. Race was positive she'd win.   
"And they're off!" shouted the announcer.  
Dance Horse Call was lagging behind and the lead horse was already stretching forward. They were halfway around the track now, with Dance Horse Call second to last. The lead horse began to be in the site of the finish line, and Race started having second thoughts.  
"Two bucks wasted," he grumbled. "Weasel's gonna kill me." He began to tear up the ticket when Joe stopped him.  
"Look Race," he said.  
Dance was moving fast into place and taking over the lead. The race ending with a triumphant Dance prancing around with pride as her jockey laughed and hugged her neck.  
It took Race a minute to realize what had happened.   
"Holy shit!" he yelled. "I just won fifty bucks!" Joe smiled and clapped Race on the back.   
"Congrats," he said.   
Race barely heard him as he ran up to the ticket booth. He handed over his winning ticket to the man that sold it to him.   
"I see you've won," the man said.  
"Yup. Fifty bucks right?"  
"Nope fifty-five, odds went down." Race was speechless.   
"So how'd you know the horse would win?"  
"Huh?"  
The man repeated his question. Race shrugged, "She likes mud, an with all da rain we've been getting, I figured she'd be top pick."  
"So you really know bout that horse?"  
"I've been keepin my eye on er. She's a good horse. An she had ta win sometime."  
The man looked over Race, he was pretty young, but it was obvious he knew a lot about horses.  
"What's your name son?"  
Race hesitated. "Uh.Tony," he said, giving his real name.  
"Well, Tony, how would you like to warm up my horses?"  
Race couldn't believe everything that had just happened. First, he had won fifty, no fifty-five dollars, now he was being offered a job doing what he always wanted to do.  
"No kiddin?" he asked.  
The man chuckled; he handed over the wad of bills. "I'm honest kid. You look like you've got talent. So how bout it?"  
Race could barely get the words out, "Yeah, de-definitely!"   
"Great, be here at five tomorrow. See you then, Tony."  
"Yeah, so long Mr."  
"White."  
Race waved good-bye and walked out of the races as happy as he'd ever been in his life. The very first thing he did was stop by a general store and buy a cigar. True, he already had about four stashed in his drawer at the lodging house, but this was a special occasion. He sauntered back to the lodging house, singing at the top of his lungs until someone from one of the apartments above him yelled to "shut-up or he'd have to make something outta it." Race was so happy he didn't care. It was already nine o'clock; he should probably be in the lodging house before Kloppman, the owner, decided to revoke his privileges, namely his bed, food, clothes.   
It took him a minute to realize that he wasn't alone in the alley.   
"Hey kid, what're ya doin out here so late?" The person turned around.   
"What are you doing out here so late?" she said coolly.  
Race laughed, "Where ya going so late? Home?"  
The girl shrugged. Her hair had leaves entangled in the curls and her arms were covered in scratches.  
"It looks like youse been in a run droo Central Park."  
"So?" She turned to leave. "Hey," she turned around again. "You know where the distribution office for the World is?"  
"You thinkin of becomin a newsie?"  
She shrugged again. He gave her directions on how to get there and what time the office opened. "Hey kid, you got a name?" he asked.  
She hesitated. "Ivy," she said finally.  
"Ivy, dat's nice. I'm Racetrack."  
She lifted an eyebrow questioningly. He was used to this.  
"It's Anthony really. Anthony Higgins, but my friends call me Race."  
She nodded and shook his hand. "See ya round Race."  
"Yeah, see ya."  
  
Race arrived at the lodging house to see only a few lights on. He climbed up the fire escape to the boys' second floor room and crept through the window.   
"Heya Race," said Kid. "How were the tracks?" Race smiled, but didn't say anything.  
"Come on, don't keep us in suspense," another newsie said. He wore a blue shirt with a bandana around his neck. His usually ever-present cowboy hat was hanging on his bedpost.  
"Hey Jack, how're tings round ere?" Race asked with a grin.  
"Not too bad," he said. "Yer smilin, so how much you make taday?" Race grinned again. He sat down in a chair with his feet on a table and lighted the cigar. He sat there with a smug look, puffing smoke rings.   
"Well?" said Mush, a friend of Race's and fellow newsie.  
Race pulled out his winnings and slapped them on the table. "Plus, I got me a job warmin up horses tamorra."  
The newsies were speechless. None of them had ever seen that much money in one place, other than a cash register.   
"Race, did you steal dat?" Mush asked.  
"Hey! Gimme some credit!" Race cried. "Da odds were twenty-five ta one. An I got an extra five from da fact dat none of people betted on er."  
"Race, dis is a lot of money. Watcha doin wid it?" Jack wanted to know.  
Race thought for a minute. "First, I gonna pay back everything I owe, even to Kloppman."  
Everybody got silent. The two-cent fine the newsies were required to pay usually never got into the moneybox Kloppman had. If you walked in through the door, you paid; if you climbed in through a window, it was forgotten. Race usually came in late from the tracks when the door was shut tight. Skittery whispered in Race's ear, "If ya do dat, ya know yer gonna have nuttin no more."  
Race's eyes widened. "Well, maybe not," he said. Everyone laughed and the crowd that had tightened around him began thinning.  
"Dat don't mean I'm not paying youse guys back." He counted out six dollars and gave three to Jack, two to Blink, and one to Mush.  
Jack fingered the money. "It don't feel right Race."  
"Yeah well it don't feel right having all dis money and not paying you back. I always wanted to be free of debts, an now I am. First thing after I sell my papes, I'm gonna go to da bank. I ain't gonna lose all dis money like my pop."  
Jack looked quietly at Race. He never talked about his father. Kid reached out to push the front of Race's cap down.  
"Thanks, Race," he said. "I figured I'd never get dis money back."  
"Yeah Race," echoed Mush. "Thanks."  
They turned to go to their bunks when Race remembered the girl.  
"Hey fellas, youse ever heard of a goil named Ivy?"  
This got Mush's attention. "You got a girl Race?" He sat down in a backward chair, his chin resting on his fists with the biggest grin Race had ever seen.  
"Naw, I'm just curious," he said.  
The newsies that were lounging around the room started perking up.  
Kid Blink walked back over to Race and laid an arm on Mush's shoulder. "Is she pretty?" he asked. Mush added in a comment about it being "about time."  
"Wouldja shut up? Geez a guy asks a question dese days." Race muttered.  
Jack looked at Race with teasing eyes. "So is she a looker?"  
Race jumped up from his chair. "I dunno, it was a dark alley. All I know is er name is Ivy an she might become a newsie."  
"A newsie?" said Bumlets. "No problem dair." A few newsies, mostly younger ones, erupted in bursts of laughter. Race frowned and glanced at his pocket watch again, half an hour had already passed and he was beat. He pulled of his vest and cap and collapsed onto his bed.  
The next morning the newsies woke up to Kloppman's loud shouts. Jack yawned twice then pulled on his blue shirt and tied his bandana around his neck. Race sat up in bed with half-focused eyes. He checked his pockets to make sure all his money was still there. He didn't like carrying around so much, especially in the parts where he usually sold his papes. Maybe he would be able to stop by the bank before he bought his papers this morning. He quickly pulled on his clothes and ran into the washroom before he flew down the steps of the lodging house and into the streets.   
The distribution office was already full of newsies reading and buying papers. He could see Weasel haggling with one of the newsies.  
"Hey," he said, "dat's Ivy."   
She looked like she was having an argument with Weasel.  
"What's it matter if I'm a girl?" she said in an angry voice. "I still sell papes, right?"  
"No girls for newsies," he said. "And dat's final." She tried to bribe him by throwing in an extra nickel.  
"You need special permission from Mr. Pulitzer ta sell papes. I take it you don't have it," Weasel said ruefully. "Now beat it."  
She picked up her money and walked down the steps with a stormy look on her face. She picked up her head when she heard someone shout her name. She turned to see Race walking up to her.   
"So how ya doin Ivy?" he asked. She put out her hand with her money in it.  
"That stupid dumox wouldn't give me my papes!" she said angrily. Race looked skeptically at Weasel, then back at Ivy.   
"Gimme your money," he said to her.  
She backed up and put up her fists. "Are you kiddin?"   
Race laughed. "Well, if ya really don't want me ta buy yer papes, I guess dat's okay with me."  
Ivy put down her fists. She warily examined Race, and he carefully examined her. She had thick dark hair, which probably wouldn't do her much good in this heat, and eyes that flickered from blue to green to gray, depending on her attitude. She placed the money into his outstretched hand. "I want thirty," she said. Race nodded and climbed up the stairs to the window where Weasel was rubbing the wire hard stubble on his chin.  
"Eighty papes," Race said putting down his and Ivy's money. Weasel glanced at the money.  
"Why not fifty?" Weasel asked.   
Race smirked. "Cuz I'm savin up ta buy you a birthday present." The newsies around him laughed. Weasel frowned at him then called out in a loud voice, "Eighty papers!" His nephew, Morris, slammed the papers down on the counter.  
"And tell the cutie if she wants a real man, she can always stop by," Morris whispered in Race's ear.   
Race glared at him for a minute, but then smiled sweetly. "Weasel knows where ya live." Morris started swearing at the newsie, and was only stopped by the fact that if he said anything too bad, he'd have forty guys on his case. Race walked past Ivy with her papers. Weasel was watching him, he knew. He stopped when he was right outside the gates of the office.  
"Sorry if I scared ya," he said, handing over her papes. "I just didn't want Weas' to suspect nuttin." She nodded. Newsies on their way out whistled and clapped Race on the back until he turned red and glared at them.  
Mush crept up behind him and whispered loudly, "Is she da cutie?" Ivy blushed and looked at Race with interest.  
Race faced him and said, "Hey ya bum, wouldja leave me alone?" Mush laughed and walked off.  
Race gave Ivy a sheepish grin, "Sorry, dis guy is full of." he searched for the right word, ".stuff." Ivy masterfully stifled a laugh. Race leaned against the brick wall. "Do ya know how ta be a newsie?"  
Ivy smiled, "Well, always look sweet and innocent, nuns and old ladies always buy papers, and.um.oh yeah! never sell the truth, unless it can sell itself."   
"Well, dairs dat an a lotta udder things too. Foist of all, youse gotta always watch out for da bulls."  
"Bulls?"  
"Cops. Dey doesn't like newsies. Dey say we're interruptin da peace, an something bout false advertisement." Ivy nodded, and tucked this information in the back of her mind. She had always avoided the police anyway--they made her nervous. "An anudder thing," Race continued, "we all meet at Tibby's round noon--" he was interrupted by Kid Blink calling his name.   
"What?" Race yelled back.  
"We gotta get goin before everyone in New York gots papes!"  
Race turned to Ivy, "Dat's Kid Blink, he usually sells wid me. Hey, you ain't got no one ta sell with, why don'tcha come with us?" Before Ivy could open her mouth, Kid yelled out again.  
"Hey, lovaboy, move it or loose it!" Race turned bright red and ignored him. "He usually ain't like dis." Ivy laughed again. She had been having an interesting morning, and she had Race and his friends to thank for it. She watched as Kid jogged over.  
"Listen Race, if youse wanna go out dair wid everyone already gone fer woik an wid papers, fine but-" his single blue eye caught Ivy's. He reached down to pick up her hand and lightly kissed it. "My name is Kid Blink," he said proudly. "An if ders anything I can do for you, just name it."  
Ivy smiled. Race glanced at his friend, who shrugged and broke out into a grin. "We gotta gets goin," said Kid. "As much as I'd like ta stay an tawk wid a pretty goil, I gots ta live too." He began dragging Race by the arm.  
"Wait a sec," said Race. "I guess I'll see ya later," he called out. "An one last thing." He took off his black cap and threw it to her. "Da goils I know, well, dey say dat it gets hot durin da daytime, wid long hair an all. So's you can wear my cap til youse get yer own." Ivy accepted the gift graciously. She pulled her dark hair into a loose bun, then placed the cap over it. A few wispy strands fell over her face, but for the most part her hair was neatly tucked away under the cap.  
"Tanks Race. So how I look?"   
Race grinned, "Like a newsie." Kid Blink rolled his eyes and continued to pull Race off.   
"See ya. Bye!" Race yelled one last time.  
"So long!" Ivy called back. 'Yup,' she thought to herself, 'definitely an interesting morning.' She smiled and walked out into the crowd of people.   
Race leaned heavily on the front stoop of an apartment building as he thought of that morning. He usually never got caught up in girls-that was Mush's territory-and Ivy certainly wasn't an exception. But then why was he thinking about her? He shrugged off the feeling that he didn't know a thing about why she was in New York or where she came from or anything, and tried to concentrate on selling his newspapers. He had only managed to sell seventeen even though six hours had gone by. Kid Blink walked over to where Race was sitting.   
"Race," he said, tapping his friend on the shoulder. "Hey, Racetrack! Anthony Higgins, you here, or someplace else?" Race glanced up at him, noticing for the first time he was there.   
"Oh, what?" he asked.  
Kid Blink shook his head. "Ya missed bout six or seven nuns. Dey just walked by ya, an you didn't even look up."  
"So?" Race turned back to the paper.   
"So last week ya wudda plastered yerself all ova dem til dey bought papes." Race shrugged. Kid sat down next to Race. "Ya gotta sell ta eat, gotta eat ta live."  
"What?" said Race. "No I don't. I got 49 bucks, Kid. Dat's enough ta settle me fer life."  
"Hey, I thought you were gunna put dat money in a bank!" Race nodded and Kid breathed a deep sigh.   
"Ya can't be thinkin bout some goil's big brown eyes all da time." Kid got up and walked over to the curb.  
"Green!" Race yelled at him.  
"Huh?"  
"Dey're green. Her eyes are green."  
"Yeah, whatever Race." Blink looked nervously at his friend. It wasn't like him to be so crazy about a girl. Sure she was pretty, but she didn't seem like the type of girl Race would hang out with. He was interrupted by Race hitting him on the shoulder.  
"Is dat her?" he asked, staring at the other side of the street.  
"Who?"  
"Ivy!"  
Kid Blink looked over to where Race was pointing. It kind of looked like her, but he couldn't really tell.  
"I'm gunna go check it out. Here, hold my papes." Race shoved the papers into his friend's hands and jogged off.  
"Race!" Kid tried to call him back. The guy need some sense knocked into him, and Blink wasn't afraid to give him the bumps to prove it.   
Race turned to the girl newsie and lightly tapped her on the shoulder. She turned around and looked at Race.  
"Hey," she said. "How ya doin?"  
"Hiya Ivy. The headlines treatin you good?" Ivy glanced at the four papers she held in her hand.   
"I'm almost sold out," she said proudly. "What about you?" Race turned red.   
"I haven't been sellin too good taday." Race looked nervously at her. "Yer a born newsie, ya know dat? Not many foist-timers can sell out so fast."  
"Well, I can't make up the headlines, but I do a pretty good job of making people feel sorry for me-watch." She walked over to where a young woman was sitting reading a book.  
"Excuse me miss," she said. "Will ye buy my paper?" Race was fascinated. She took on the identity of a young Irish girl who looked unsteady in the big city.  
"I have no change," the woman said, waving her away.  
"Please miss. Me dear brother Jaime has come down with a terrible sickness. I must work in these dangerous, foul streets until someone buys out me papers. Then I can go 'ome and comfort the wee boy. Please miss, 'tis just a penny." She looked at the woman with bright tears brimming in her eyes. Race had to hand it to her, she was a fabulous actress. The woman looked just about ready to cry along with her.  
"Oh you poor thing," she cooed. "Here, dear. Take a penny, I'll buy your paper." Ivy looked just about crazed with gratitude. The woman reached out to touch her cheek lovingly then turned back to her book.  
Ivy walked over to Race with gigantic smile on her face. "I was kinda hoping she'd buy them out, but what can you do?"  
Race broke out in a fit of laughter, he couldn't help it-she was classic.  
"What are you laughing at, Anthony?" she demanded.  
That threw him for a loop. "How did-"  
"You told me last night," she laughed.  
"Oh." Race glanced back at an impatient Kid Blink. "I think I gotta go. I'll be at da tracks tanight, but I hope I see ya tamorra."  
"Yeah, me too. Bye Race."  
"Bye." He waved and took his papers from Kid.  
"I'm leavin, an I sold ten of yer papes." He tossed Race a dime. Race threw it back.  
"You earned it," he said.   
"See ya at Tibby's?"  
"Nope, tanight I start my foist real job-besides bein a newsie. Plus I gotta stop by da bank."  
Kid nodded. He hadn't seen much of his friend lately, and he was starting to miss him.   
Race recognized the look on Kid's face. "I'll be back by eight, though. And den I'll play ya in a porker game." Kid smiled.  
"Sure. Ya want me ta stick around?"  
"Nah, I got it handled." Race waved good-bye as his friend walked down the block. He opened up a newspaper and yelled, "Mayor considers runnin fer president!"   
  
Ronald White looked over the dusty racetrack. The mud had caked over and was turning into a fine, brown dust. He hoped the new boy he had hired was better than the old trainer. Hell, anyone was better than that man. He had come awfully close to beating a horse and ruining one of the finest racers in the league.   
White wondered why he trusted his horse to a street boy who had simply made a lucky guess. Because he knows this boy knew what he was doing when he placed that bet. His thoughts were stopped when he heard a few curt knocks on the door. White pulled himself away from the window overlooking the track.  
"Come in," he ordered. Race nervously stepped into the office. It wasn't as big as Pulitzer's-he knew, he had been brought there after the strike when he had been arrested for stealing food (Pulitzer liked to keep tabs on the newsies)-but it was furnished elegantly with a gorgeous oak desk and red leather sitting chairs.  
White glanced at his heavy gold pocket-watch.  
"Right on time, I see. Very nice, Tony," he said, nodding his approval. Race smiled and his nerves calmed down.  
"Please, Mr. White, call me Racetrack or Race," said Race. "It's what all my friends me an I ain't used ta Tony dat much."  
White smiled and nodded. He motioned for Race to follow him. As they walked to the stables, White was filling Race in on what he'd be doing.  
"My horse, Dance, is in need of a new trainer. You seem to know quite a bit about her and her running style." Race nodded. "I will be requiring you to groom, feed, and warm her up besides your regular duties." He laughed. "Lucky for you we just brought on a new stable boy, so you won't have to muck out her stable. And one last thing: your pay will be $6 a day starting next week, this week you will be receiving $2.50 a day was a trial pay."  
Race could have died right then and there. 'Who needs to be a newsie when you make that much?' he thought.  
"Is that alright?" White asked. Race's face still held a dumbstruck look. He nodded and laughed.  
"Dat's perfect," he said. White smiled and opened the door to the stables. A young man was leaning against a worn-down post in the stable, talking with one of the jockeys, until White called him over.  
"Race, this is-"  
"Joe!" Race exclaimed. "I didn't know you worked here."  
"Hey," said Joe, " I didn't know you worked here. Out spending that money?"  
Race shrugged. He had put $45 into the bank after he had finished selling his papes. The attendant had said that the money eventually would grow and he'd have more. That suited Race just fine. All he wanted was the money to be put out of temptation. He wasn't going to end up like his father.  
White realized the two boys knew each other and forgot about giving introductions. He left after giving Race a few more instructions and walked back to his office.  
"So I guess I better show you how to take care of a horse," said Joe. Race laughed and followed him to Dance's stable. He gently petted the mare on her deep brown neck. Joe took out a series of brushes and held them out to Race.  
"First thing you gotta do is clean out her hooves," he said, handing Race a pick. "Now you stand on the side of her like dis, then you lift her hoof so she can't kick you if she wanted to." He stood facing the other direction as Dance, with her front leg lifted so he could see the bottom. He held out his hand for the pick and showed Race how to clean it then brush the front part of her hoof with the brush on the other end. He motioned for Race to try it with the other foot. Race cautiously moved towards the big animal. This was as close as he'd been to a horse and he never realized how big they were.   
Joe watched as Race nervously approached Dance. He had a lot of confidence in Race and he knew he'd do a good enough job. Race stepped back from the finished hoof.   
"Is dat right?"  
Joe carefully examined the hoof. "Yeah, pretty good fer a beginner," Joe said, slapping Race on the back. He briefly showed Race how to use the brushes, in what order to brush her in, and how to put on her saddle, bridle, and whatever else she would need.   
"Oh, and here," Joe slipped Race something. "If she starts rearing, first of all get out of the way, then try to keep her head down, stroke her nose, and give her one of these." He saw that Race didn't know what they were. "They're sugar cubes," he clarified.  
"I knew dat," said Race.   
Joe laughed. "Sure, Race, sure. Just call if you need anything." He walked off with a wave.  
Race looked over Dance. He quickly finished cleaning her hooves and picked up the circular currycomb.  
"Good girl," he said quietly, "dair ya go." He briskly finished with the currycomb and started with the others. By the time he had finished, her dark hair gleamed and the muscles could be easily seen, as if she wanted to tell the world she was the best. Race slipped her bridle on and saddle and led her out to the corral. He saw Joe sitting on the fence that surrounded it and waved to him.  
"Looks like you did pretty good," Joe called out. Race shrugged and put a foot in the stirrup. He swung his other leg over and picked up the reins. This was first time he'd ever been on a horse and he was surprised how well he got on her. He tried his hardest to remember how to get her to start walking. Race slowly nudged her with his heels. She remained standing as if nothing had happened. Joe was watching Race's attempt with a huge grin.  
"You gotta kick her to get her going," he said.  
Race looked over at him. "Dat's what I've been doin," he replied.  
Joe shook his head disapprovingly. "No, hard."  
Race glanced at the horse with concern.  
"It won't hurt her, just do it," said Joe, sliding off the rail and landing in the dust.  
Race gave a few kicks. Dance realized he was an untrained rider and took a hint. She started off the side of the corral. Race shifted his weight and pulled on the reins to make her turn left. They began a lazy circle around the corral. Two hours later, Race pulled Dance to a stop. He slowly climbed out of the saddle and took out one of the sugar cubes from his pocket. It was crushed a little but he still held it out to the good-tempered mare. She licked it up with a flash of gratitude. Race laughed and patted her brown nose. He then led her to her stable and began hefting off the saddle. He brushed the sweat and dirt off her coat then, after giving her a final sugar cube, left the stables. He saw Joe combing the mane of another horse and gave him a quick good-bye. He bumped into White as he left the tracks.  
"So how was my little girl?" White asked.  
Race grinned. "Da nicest horse I eva saw. She's a sweetheart." White smiled proudly. "Well, I'd love ta chat, but I gotta meet some people."   
White recognized his eagerness and took a guess at why. "Is there a girl involved?" he asked.  
Race shrugged as an image of Ivy flashed through his mind. "Maybe." White patted Race on the back.  
"I guess you'd better go then. Take care, Race, and I expect to see you same time tomorrow."  
"Yes sir," said Race. He walked from the tracks and headed towards Tibby's.   
He bumped into a newsie trying to sell their last paper. "Hey mista, buy me pape?" the kid asked. Race squinted through the dark light of the alley.  
"Ivy?" he asked in amazement. She whipped off his cabby hat and all her dark curls fell. She had a huge grin on her face.   
"For a minute I thought ya wouldn't recognize me," she said, tossing him the cap. He threw it back to her.  
"I can always get anudda one. Til den, you keep it," Race said. He pulled out a penny and placed it in her hand. He took her only paper.  
"Dair," he remarked. "Now yer out an you can come wid me ta Tibby's." She laughed as Race straightened up like a gentleman and held out his arm. She, in return, put on a serious face and began to act like a prissy old lady. She took Race's arm and they began to walk down the sidewalk. She stole one sideways glance at him and they both broke out in a fit of laughter. People passing by on their way home took notice of the two teenagers, who were out of breath and gasping from laughing too hard. When they had finally calmed down, Race looked at her.  
"I'll race ya ta Tibby's," he said. She looked at him with a smile on her face for a moment, but before she could react, he took off in a run.  
"Hey!" she yelled as she tried to keep up with him, "I don't know how to get there!" Race laughed.  
"Den falla me," he shouted. They ran down the alleyway with Ivy right on Race's heels. Then Race stopped as suddenly as he began. Ivy all but crashed into him as he stood outside Tibby's. She shook the dust from the hem of her dress and noticed she had caused an inch wide rip from stepping on her dress during the chase.  
"Blasted skirts," she said. Race laughed.  
"Come on, da boys are waiting." He pulled her up from examining the skirt and opened the door for her. She stepped inside the cozy diner and briefly scanned the room. There were a few booths and tables-all occupied by the newsies. Race said his hellos to the few boys sitting in the front tables and moved to a booth in the back. Jack and Kid Blink were sitting on one side, while Mush had turned a chair around and sat at the end.   
"For dose of ya dat know already know her, dis is Ivy," Race said proudly. Ivy nodded at the newsies that said hello to her. "Ivy, dis is Mush and Jack."  
"Hey, I heard a lot aboutcha," said Jack as she and Race slid into the other seat.   
"Oh, really?" asked Ivy. She stole a look at Race.   
"Yeah, seems ya bumped inta our friend, Race, here."  
Ivy laughed as she saw Race turn slightly crimson. They ordered a meal and began to eat. Throughout the conversation, Ivy could feel Jack watching her. Finally, she couldn't take it anymore.  
"Scuse me, Jack," she said. "Can I talk ta ya for a sec?"  
Jack glanced around the table at his friends. "Uh, sure," he said. They slid out of their seats and walked over to the side of the restaurant.   
"Jack, I gotta know what your problem with me is," Ivy said in one breath. She had heard a lot of stories about newsie leaders, and she certainly didn't want to get him mad.  
Jack shrugged. "I don't got a problem wid you."  
"Oh yeah? Then why can't you stop watching me? I felt like a convict or some'in."  
"Look," said Jack. "Me an Blink are worried bout Race. He ain't acting like himself an it started around when he first metcha."  
"What?" Ivy asked in an annoyed voice. "Yer mad at me cuz Race met me an now he's actin all goofy?"  
"Yeah, sorta." Ivy shook her head in disbelief. Suddenly a grin crept across her face. "It's natural fer him ta be like this. I wouldn't be worried."  
"So you think ya know why he's actin like this, huh?" Ivy nodded. "Den what is it?"  
Ivy looked at Race, who was talking with his friends and laughing. "I think he's in love." She turned to face a dumbfounded Jack. She gave a small laugh and walked back to the booth. Jack watched her go and, a few seconds later, followed.   
"So what was dat all about?" Race asked as she slid to the end of the booth. He sat down with her on the inside.  
"Nuttin, just needed to tell Jack something," Ivy replied.   
Jack walked up behind Mush. "Yeah, nothing to be worried about, Race," he said with a forced smile. He still didn't trust this girl. There was something about her that made him nervous. Just then, a group of cops walked in.  
"Hey look," said Mush, "coppers in Tibby's. Dey don't usually come in here." Ivy stiffened.  
"Something da matta, Ivy?" Blink asked.   
"Cops make me nervous," she replied. She reached into Race's pocket and pulled out his watch. "Geez, I'm late. I gotta get to Pulitzer's office before he leaves so I can sell."  
Race looked disappointed, but he moved off the seat to let her out. "I'll walk ya out," he offered. Kid and Jack exchanged glances. Ivy nodded and got out of the booth.  
"See ya tomorrow, boys," she said with a wave.  
"G'night Ivy," Mush said.  
"Yeah, see ya," Blink and Jack echoed. They watched the pair move towards the table where the police officers were sitting. Ivy was almost shaking with fear. She gave a quick look at the table and a young officer caught her eye. She broke the gaze in a second and kept her eyes forward.  
"Hey, is that Elli?" the young man whispered to his partner. Upon hearing those words, Ivy grabbed Race's arm like she was going to fall.  
"You ok?" he asked.  
She gave a weak smile. "Yeah, I'm fine." She noticed one cop rise and was about to catch her shoulder when she tugged at Race's hand.  
"Run," she commanded.  
"Huh?" Race asked in bewilderment.   
"Run!" The police were almost on their tails as they flew out the door. They ran down the street with the police shouting at them and blowing whistles. Race saw a convenient alley and grabbed Ivy's waist to pull her in. They stood pressed out on the wall, praying the police wouldn't find them. To their luck the cops ran past the alley and they sneaked away.  
"What da hell was dat?" Race asked when they had stopped running. Ivy turned away and shrugged.  
"Yer gonna hafta give me more then dat," he said angrily.  
Ivy eyed him with a stern face. "I told you I don't like cops. They make me nervous. So when they got up, I.thought they were.going to hurt me.or you. So I ran." She shrugged again. "Besides, they were looking for someone named Elli. I heard them. So it couldn't of been me."   
Race leaned on the brick wall. "Yeah, well I wish you had thought of that before."  
Ivy smiled grimly. "Me too," she said softly. They both stood in the alley for a moment then Ivy began to walk off.  
"Hey," Race shouted after her. "Where ya goin?"  
"Pulitzer's," she said in an indifferent tone. She took off Race's cap and threw it to him. "I don't need it no more," she said coldly. Race tried to say something to her, but all she did was run away.  
"Ivy," he called.  
"Leave me alone," she shouted back. "You never should've helped me!" She ran off down the street as Race watched her, clutching his hat. He put his head against the wall and muttered, "Dis goyl's gonna kill me." He gave a final look in her direction, and walked off to the Lodging House.  
  
The receptionist looked in the face of the young girl as she shyly stepped up to her desk.  
"Excuse me," the girl said in what seemed like forced proper speaking. "I wish to see Mr. Pulitzer."   
"Mr. Pulitzer is busy," the woman said sternly. "You can't see him." Just then Pulitzer walked out the double doors.  
"Where are those cards, Gretchen? I wanted to play a few games of solitaire," Pulitzer said.  
The receptionist turned red when she saw Ivy laughing.  
"And who is this young lady?" Pulitzer asked.  
"Ivy," Ivy said, extending her hand. Pulitzer lifted it to his lips and brushed a slight kiss. Ivy cringed inside when she felt it, but kept on smiling.  
"Is there anything I can do for you, my dear?"   
"Yes, actually. I need to talk to you about newsies." Pulitzer stiffened at the mention of his old rivals, but ushered Ivy up the stairs and into a lavishly decorated office.  
"May I get you a drink, Ivy?" Pulitzer said. He reached for a bottle of wine on a marble table.  
"Oh, no. I just ate with some friends," Ivy said. She was a little wary of the old man. She had heard he was famous for being cruel and unbending and here he was offering her drinks.  
"Now what can I do for you?" He motioned for Ivy to sit in one of the plush velvet chairs in front of his desk. He poured himself a brandy and took a seat beside, rather than across from her at his desk. This made Ivy nervous. She didn't know why he was being so.willing or why he had chosen to sit next to her or anything. All she wanted was to get out of there as fast as possible.  
"Well, I would like to become a newsie," she said. Pulitzer's face held a surprised look, but she still continued. "However, I've been informed that women are not allowed to sell papers." She was really surprised that her proper speech was turning out so well. She had expected it to sound like a phony accent.  
Pulitzer nodded. "It can be done. Here I'll make the call now." He rose and took out a phone from his desk drawer. He dialed a number and waited for someone to pick up.  
"This is Mr. Pulitzer, Weisle, and I expect some respect when I call," he said. "Now I've heard that you don't allow ladies to sell papers.that makes no difference, Weisle.no buts, anyone that so chooses to sell my papers is allowed to sell my papers.that's better.yes, now show some manners when dealing with ladies.it's a good trait, Weisle and I won't have you harassing my workers.good.yes, good-bye."  
He hung up the phone and faced Ivy. "There, that little problem has been solved."  
"Thank-you Mr. Pulitzer. I'd better be going," Ivy said as she rose from the chair. She was stopped by Pulitzer placing an arm across the front.  
"No need to go so soon," he said, smiling. Panic welled up in Ivy's throat.  
"Actually, I'm supposed to meet some friends and I really don't.want to.um, Mr. Pulitzer?" He was gazing at her with rapt interest. He leaned forward to kiss her, but she slid out from the side of the chair and faced him.  
"I think I should leave," she said.  
"On the contrary, stay," said Pulitzer. He edged his way closer to her, cornering her. "There's no need to be afraid."  
"Well, first time for everything," Ivy said nervously. She looked around for a weapon and found nothing.  
"I know you've probably never been with a man," Pulitzer started.  
"Not one as old as you," Ivy retorted. "Joe, I got friends that are pretty high up."  
"And I'm the highest up you can get." He grabbed for Ivy's dress and caught her long dark hair instead. He gave a soft chuckle as he wound his fingers around her curls. Ivy prayed silently the receptionist would come, but to no avail. Pulitzer ran his hands through her hair until he reached her throat. He began to unbutton the high collar she wore. She gave out a scream for all she was worth and punched him in ribs. Pulitzer flew backwards under the impact and swore at her. The receptionist barged in and saw the scene.  
"Oh, Mr. Pulitzer are you alright? When I heard the scream I thought something might be wrong."  
"No, no we're fine. Uh.Gretchen, where are the papers I wanted?"  
Ivy crept out behind the receptionist. She was so happy about not being caught she let a smile creep across her face as she blew a kiss to Pulitzer and gave a wave. She walked out the World building laughing as hard as she could.  
  
"Hey Race, what happened back there?"  
Every newsie that filed inside the Lodging House asked the same question.  
"Nuttin," Race said glumly. He was lying in his bunk with his shirt, vest, and cap off and the covers pulled up to hide his face. He turned away from the crowd of boys. He needed a few more minutes to think.   
"Nothin? Nothin?" Specs said. "Dat girl is a fugitive from the police an you think it's nothin?" Jack smacked him in the head.  
"Leave im alone! All of youse," he said threateningly. The newsies backed down. Blink walked over to his friend and patted him on the back.  
"Youse had a rough day," he said calmly. "An da last thing ya need is dis." Race looked up at him.  
"She ain't no fugitive. I know dat," he said. He sighed and rolled on his back with his arms under his head.   
Jack appeared behind Blink and sat down on the bunk opposite of Race's. "So den what happened?"  
Race glared at him. "I don't wanna talk about it. But dey ain't after her, I know."  
"How?" Jack countered.  
"Cuz dey're lookin for a goyl named Elli, not Ivy, dat's how." Jack sighed.   
"Well, as much as I hate ta burst yer bubble, my name's Jack, but to Synder an all da rest of da police force, it's Sullivan."  
Race had a look on his face that seemed to say 'I don't care if you're my leader, I'll soak ya anyway.'   
Mush, who had listened in on the conversation, recognized it and quickly said, "Well, maybe all she did was escape from da Refuge or something. You know, she stole some food, got arrested, and ran away. I'll bet in a week or so, things'll calm down."  
Race smiled. "Yeah, dat's all. She just ran away an the cops are on her trail. She'll be fine in a little while." Jack shook his head disapprovingly and climbed into his bunk. Race turned off the lamp on the nightstand as Blink crawled into the bunk above him.  
All of a sudden, right after Race had turned off the light and contentedly settled into the sheets, Blink said something.  
"Well, it's either dat or she did something really big an had to change her name an da cops won't eva let her outta dair sight."  
Race kicked the bed above him and fell back into a sleepless night.  
  
Ivy wandered down the cold streets, looking for somewhere to curl up for the night.  
"Ebbie.Ebbbiiiee" someone was whispering the name.  
"Who's there?" she asked. She looked around to see the origin of the voice but couldn't find anybody. Out of nowhere a man jumped out in front of her. Ivy gave a gasp, but quickly realized who it was.  
"God, Bullet," she said. "You almost gave me a heart attack." She walked past him but he grabbed her arm.  
"What, no hello kiss?" he asked in a voice that sounded like gravel.   
"Nope," she said simply. "I have to get going, Bull. Now let me go." He roughly pushed her up against a wall.  
"Listen, I'm in no mood for your jokes. Where is it?" he said.  
"Where is what?" she asked in an annoyed tone.   
"What do you think, Ebbie? What have I been wanting my entire career?"   
Ivy sighed. "Oh, that." She pushed herself away from his iron grip. "Look, Bull, I wasn't the one who set it up, you were."  
"Yeah, but Sammy pulled it through." He walked up behind her.  
"Then why don't you ask Sammy?"  
"I can't. He's dead."  
Ivy covered her mouth with her hand. "What? No!"  
"Sliced up. Looks like he who ever was looking for him didn't find anything. Now where is it Eb?"  
"I don't know, I never knew. Sammy.he never trusted me with that stuff."  
"Oh, come on. I know you're lying. Sammy would give you anything to be happy, and I know you wanted that."  
Ivy turned to him, shaking. "No, Bull, I swear. I never did. I knew how much it meant to you. I couldn't." Bullet grabbed her by the arms.  
"Where is it, Ebbie? Where did you put it? You may think you can just leave and be done with us but you had to know that would never happen."  
"Bull, I."  
He yelled full into her face. "WHAT!"   
"I don't have it. I'm telling you. I never told Sammy to do it. He wanted to make you proud. He." she trailed off in an avalanche of tears. Bullet shoved her to the ground.  
"One week, Ebbie. I'm giving you one week to get it to me. That's all." He walked off, leaving Ivy to stare at him in shock and terror.  
"Sammy." she whispered.  
The moon slowly crept over the city, and the only sounds that could be heard were the pitiful sobs of a young girl.  
Race stretched and pulled up his suspenders. He quickly combed his hair, put on his shirt and vest, grabbed his cap, and ran out the door. He wanted to get to the distribution center fast as possible so that he wouldn't miss her.  
He got there a quarter to six. The whole place was deserted. Even Weasel hadn't opened the window where you got papers. Race waited a little while before he became impatient and swung the heavy bell a few times.  
"What are you doing here this early?" came the grumbled response. The wooden board over the window lifted up and Race could see the dirty, disheveled man.  
"You?" he asked in amazement. "Where are the rest of the street rats?"  
Race shrugged. "Still in bed, I guess. So yer honor, anything good?" Weasel frowned at the boy and asked him how many he wanted.  
"Uh, fifty sounds good," Race said, throwing down his money. Weasel tossed him the papers. He took them and sat down on the stairs. Presently the other newsies began to arrive.   
"Hey Race," said Bumlets. "Tryin ta get the jump on us?"  
Race laughed but didn't reply. The newsies took their papers and began to leave but Race continued to sit on the steps.  
"Waitin for a certain goyl?" Mush asked as he passed him. Race shrugged and finally got up.   
"If she wants ta talk, she can wait for me," he finally decided. He slapped Blink on the back. "Ya wanna sell wid me?"  
Blink grinned. The old Race was back. "Yeah, definitely." They began to walk off but Jack stayed behind. He needed to have a little chat with Ivy.  
"Mornin Weas," Ivy said endearingly. Jack turned and saw the girl buying papers. "So, I heard you had a talk with Pulitzer, huh? So what'd he say?" She innocently placed her hands under her chin and waited for his response.  
"Shut up, kid. How many?" he said angrily.  
"Didn't Joe say you was supposed ta treat his workers nice? Thirty papes." He slammed down the papers and let the board drop over the window with a bang. Ivy smiled smugly and began to walk down the stairs until Jack stepped in her way.  
"Scuse me," she said.  
"You ain't going nowhere without me sayin a few things ta you," Jack said. He grabbed her arm and led her over to the gates.  
"Listen, Ivy. I dunno what you did last night, but it got Race angry. Why?"  
Ivy shrugged. "I already explained to him why I ran. I was scared. Can I go now?" She began to walk off until Jack pulled her against the wall again.  
"I ain't kiddin. I know you didn't run cuz you was afraid. Why'd you really run?"   
Ivy glanced around the square. There were too many places someone could hide and listen in. She decided to make up a story.  
"Look, Jack. You wanna know why I ran? Lemme tell ya a story. A long time ago there was this guy that used to beat his little girl up really good. She finally had enough courage to run away, but the police found her and took her back. The guy almost killed the girl for running, and he told every policeman in the city to look for the little girl if she ever ran away. The little girl finally did escape, dodged the cops, and changed her name. And now, the last thing she needs is to be brought back home." Ivy glared at him and walked off. This time, Jack made no move to stop her.   
  
Ivy frowned at the three papers she had been trying to sell for the past hour. It seemed like nobody had any change or everyone had already bought a paper. She had even burst out crying trying to get one businessman to buy her pape, but all it got her was a raised eyebrow. She tried to select the next person she would pry a penny from. The streets were filled with people that already had papers tucked under their arms. Ivy noticed a young woman sitting on a park bench, watching a little boy play in the trickle of water in the gutter. She decided to try these two.  
"Hey," she said to the little boy.  
The boy looked up at her with a half smile. "Hello," he said softly.  
Ivy smiled at him. "So, whatcha doin?"   
He shrugged. "Sailing."  
This was just what Ivy was waiting for. "Sailing? Well how can you sail without a boat or sailor's hat?" The little boy shrugged. "Well, I've got an idea. Is that your momma sitting on the bench over there?" The boy turned and nodded. "Why don'tcha ask her for two pennies. And I'll make ya a hat and a boat to go with it." The boy smiled and happily nodded his head. Ivy watched as he ran over to his mother and began to talk with her. He pointed at Ivy once, and Ivy smiled sweetly at the woman. Finally, his mother broke down and gave her son the two coins. The boy came back to the sidewalk and watched in amazement as Ivy folded up the paper into a boat. She handed it to the boy and started on the hat. When she was done, she began to smile. He looked so natural standing there with the hat on his head, playing with the little boat. She picked up the pennies and began to work on the mother.  
"Sure is a cute little boy ya got there," she said. The young woman smiled and nodded. Ivy continued. "And it looks like he'll be playing for a while." Again, a nod. "And you without anything ta do while ya waits for him." She paused. "You know, I got one more paper."  
The woman turned to look at Ivy for the first time. "I already bought two papers from you and you want me to buy another? If I want to read the newspaper, I'll simply-"  
"What? Take away your kid's toys? That's an awful mean thing to do, lady."  
The woman began to realize the logic in Ivy's attempt. To first befriend the little boy, then try to coax another penny. She gave up trying to discourage this girl and fished out another penny.  
"Here, take it, you young rogue. And be gone with you." Ivy grinned and gave a curt nod and a wave to the little boy and walked off to count her earnings.  
"You ain't that bad, kid," someone from behind her remarked. Ivy turned to see a boy around Jack or Race's age dressed in a dark gray shirt and pants. He wore a cabby hat like all the other newsies, and he pushed it back with an air of importance.  
"Thanks," said Ivy. She turned and walked away.  
He stepped in front of her.   
"Maybe youse never heard of me. I'm Spot Conlon, da leada of the Brooklyn newsies," he said proudly. He took off his hat and gave a slight bow. Ivy frowned.  
"So?" she asked.  
Spot looked at her. "So, not many people get ta meet me. You should feel honored."  
Ivy gave a short laugh. Finally, she smiled. She couldn't help it. As hard as tried to keep her distance from the boy, she broke out into a smile. Spot reached to grab her hand, but she pulled it away.  
"You kiss my hand and I'll soak ya," she warned. She stuck out her hand after spitting in it, and Spot did the same.  
"I'm Ivy," she said.  
"Ivy what?"  
"Ivy nothing. I'm just Ivy," she remarked.   
Spot nodded. He'd been used to newsies with just first names. "Does Cowboy know you're sellin in Manhattan?"  
Ivy shrugged. "Yeah, but I don't think he likes it."  
"Oh yeah? Why?" Spot asked. Ivy grinned.  
"No reason," she said matter of factly. Spot smiled and saw Jack walking down the sidewalk.  
"Speak of da devil," he said. "I gotta go talk with Jack. You know, leada stuff. Hey, you got a place ta stay tonight?"  
"If I can find one I do," said Ivy.  
"It's decided den, youse sleepin in Brooklyn." Ivy nodded and followed Spot over to where Jack was standing.   
"Heya Cowboy," Spot said as he and Jack spit-shook.   
"Hey Spot," said Jack. He noticed Ivy seated on the steps behind the two boys. "Hey Ivy."  
Ivy waved a quick hello and turned away from the newsies to think.  
"So what's new, Conlon?" asked Jack.  
Spot leaned against a streetlight and shifted his hat to keep it off his eyes. "Well, Jacky-boy, I got a little problem. Seems the newsies down at Staten have their eye on my ferry."  
Jack pulled at the red bandana around his neck. "So? You staked first claim on that ferry so it rightfully belongs ta Brooklyn."  
"Yeah, you'd think so, but dey keep sayin how we already got da Brooklyn bridge, so's they need something else. They want us ta quit selling papes to the people coming ta Staten. Plus, dey's selling to people coming ta Brooklyn. I'm tellin ya, Jack, we got a territory war comin up an I suggest you don't try an stop it."  
"Didja talk to da Walkin Mouth yet? Maybe youse don't have ta fight, ya know? Anyway, why're ya tellin me this, Spot? I ain't stupid enough to throw my boys into a war like dat."  
"Well, I'm calling yer favor, Jack. While I got my mind on dis war, it's a perfect opportunity fer someone ta sneak in and steal my territory."  
Jack nodded. Being a newsie leader was tough. You had to make a lot of decisions that would affect your territory and the newsies in it. "I'll have me boys keep an eye on it fer you. Won't sell any papers in Brooklyn, dey'll just watch da bridge." Spot grinned.  
"Thanks, Jack. Now we's even," Spot said. He turned to walk off, but Jack caught his arm.  
"Whatcha doin wid Ivy?" he asked in a low voice.  
Spot shrugged. "Da kid needs a place ta sleep."   
Upon hearing her name, Ivy rose and walked over to Jack.  
"I thought we had this whole thing worked out," she said. "I told ya why I ran, an I'm sorry for it. I told ya why I think Race is acting so strange, an I thought you coulda been happy for him. So leave me alone wid dis."  
Jack frowned. "Look, I'm watchin you, Ivy. An you'd bedda be careful, Spot." Spot shrugged and watched Jack head to the Lodging House.   
"So why don't Jack like ya? Youse seem like a nice enough goil," Spot asked as they crossed the Brooklyn Bridge.   
Ivy gave a bitter laugh. "You haven't heard?" Spot shook his head. "I guess it started the first time I met Race. Apparently, I shifted his world upside down. He wasn't acting like himself and Jack and Kid Blink think it has to do with me."   
Spot nodded. "I can see dat. Race don't usually fall for girls, but when he does, he falls hard. An wid him, Blink and Jack seem unusually protective. I don't know why, either. They was just always like dat."  
"Well I wish they'd quit it," Ivy said scornfully. "I've got enough problems on my hands. I don't need to deal with two over-protective newsies. Especially if I'm not even sure I like him that way."  
Spot stopped. "He kiss ya yet?"  
Ivy turned bright red. "N-no," she sputtered. "An anyway it ain't your business, Spot." She began to walk in the other direction, but Spot grabbed her arm.  
"You sure ain't friendly if you don't wanna be," he said, laughing.  
Ivy examined his face. He seemed to trust her, at least more than Jack did. More than Bullet or the rest ever could. Speaking of Bull, where was the guy anyway? She knew he was most dangerous when you couldn't see him, and she hadn't seen him the entire day.  
"Uh, Spot?" Ivy said quietly.   
"Yeah?"  
"I gotta do something," she said.   
"Oh really, what's dat?"  
"Oh, nothin. Just something with an old acquaintance of mine."   
"Sure, we can stop by before we head to the Brooklyn Lodging House."  
"Well.do ya mind if I just do this myself?"  
Spot sat leaned against a wall. "Yeah, actually, I do. Da city ain't safe fer anyone ta walk at night, specially a goil." He saw Ivy open her mouth to protest. "No, you gotta listen. I don't care how good a fighter you are, or how well you can take care of yerself, no one, absalutely no one goes out alone after dark. I ain't gonna let ya."  
"Yeah, well that's too bad," Ivy said. "I can't let ya come."   
Spot frowned. "Look kid, for your own safety. I should come along. What's so big an important dat I can't come, huh?"  
Ivy sighed. She knew she wouldn't get anywhere trying to convince him not to come. She mumbled a "Fine" and walked off in the direction of Bullet's apartment.   
"Hey Spot," Ivy said as they neared his building. "Ya know, it probably ain't such a good idea if you show up with me. You should probably just wait in the street."  
"Wait in da street?!" Spot almost shouted. "No! What if dair's some trouble or somethin?"  
Ivy scowled. She hadn't thought he'd want to come with her. "Why don'tcha just wait on the fire escape or somethin?" Spot thought it over for a minute.  
"Awlright, what room is he?"  
"Second floor on this side of da buildin," Ivy said. She pointed to a window with torn red curtains. "Dat's his place." Spot nodded and grabbed the ladder of the fire escape. Ivy watched him pull himself up and opened the door to the building. She walked up the familiar steps and a flood of memories came rushing back to her. She took a deep breath and asked herself just why she was doing this again. She reached apartment 21 and knocked on the door.  
"Whaddaya want!" someone from inside the apartment yelled.  
"Open up, Bull, it's me," Ivy shouted back. She heard someone move around the apartment, fixing things and cleaning the place up a little. The door opened a fraction of the way. Ivy could see Bull peering out at her before he opened the door the whole way.  
"Yeah?" he asked.  
"You gonna let me in? Or do ya want everyone in your buildin to hear us?" Bullet stood his ground for a second, then moved aside to let her in the dark little apartment.  
"I see ya redecorated, Bull. It looks nice," Ivy said casually.  
"What is it, Eb? You out of money already?"  
"Very funny, Bull. Listen, I'm here ta tell ya that you can quit frettin."  
Bull got exited. "You got it? Give it to me!"  
"No, stupid, I'm sayin I checked, I don't have it." Ivy walked over to the couch and removed a few articles of clothing before she sat down.  
"What do you mean you don't have it? I know you do, who else would?!" He began to cross over to where she was sitting.  
"Uh, Bullet? You're kinda scarin me,"" Ivy said nervously.   
"Oh really? I thought you liked feah, Ebbie. You told me once dat you live by it. Have yer priorities changed?"  
"I ain't like dat no more, Bullet. An you know it, too. When I left, it was for the better. I couldn't live that way. All dose assignments an requirements, dey were gonna kill me someday. I had ta get out."  
Bullet gave a wild grin. "Who says yer out?"  
Ivy stared at him with a shocked expression on her face. "What do ya mean?"  
"Give me my prize, Ebbie. Give it to me and I'll let you go."  
"But, I don't understand. I'm already gone," Ivy mumbled as she kept shaking her head.  
"Yeah, you'd think dat, wouldn't ya?" Bullet sat down next to her. "Well, as it turns out we ain't been making dat much money lately, wid you gone and Sammy.out of woik. So, you hand over da goods, or ya go back ta work, for me."  
"What if I decide to stay unemployed?"  
"Den, you're turned in, Eb. It's as simple as dat. I've already had some of da boys look into your back round. We've got more dan enough against ya." Bull smiled. It just wasn't the same without this girl hanging around the place. He needed her back for business.   
Ivy nervously played with her sleeve. "But, I don't got nothing, Bull. I swear; Sammy didn't give me anything or send me anything-he didn't, Bullet. Don't go all hay wire on me."  
Bullet shrugged. "All I'm sayin is that you'd better get me somethin, Eb. I can't promise your safety no more."  
"Whaddaya mean?" Ivy began to get up from the couch.  
"Well, maybe not your safety, but.well I hear the boys from Shouts Wharf are in town."  
Ivy gave a bitter laugh. "Yeah, sure. Go ahead and try! That won't work on me and you know it."  
Bullet twisted one of Ivy's curls around his callused finger. "Well, dis is a friendly city to a young goil like yerself. Someone's got an eye on ya, even if it's just me."  
He grabbed Ivy's arm and pulled her to the door.   
"Six days, Eb. Six more days." he whispered. He opened the door and pushed her out into the hallway. Ivy stood stunned for a minute, then ran down the stairs as fast as she could. She couldn't be seen with Spot-she would end up killing him. If she ran out, maybe she could loose him, save his life. She rushed out of the building and let out a large sigh of relief when she saw the street was deserted.   
"Ivy!" Ivy turned and saw Spot jump off the fire escape and down into the street.  
"Listen to me, Spot, you can't be around me anymore-it ain't safe. So, nice ta meetcha, but I'll be goin now," Ivy said quickly. She ran down the street for all she was worth, trying to outrun him.   
"Ivy, wait!" Spot yelled after her. He tried to run up to her, but the second he was about to catch her arm, she darted in another direction, leaving Spot sprawled out on the sidewalk. He watched her run off, shocked and surprised.  
  
"Hey Spot, where's the girl?" Jack asked him as he walked into Tibby's.  
Spot shrugged. "She just ran off. We stopped at some guy's apartment, I waited for her to come out, and when she did-poof! Gone!" Jack nodded. It wasn't what he wanted to hear, but it was what he expected.  
Race walked in, full of news about the stables.  
"Heya Jacky-boy! Guess what? Mr. White says dat I'm even better dan Dance's last trainer. She'd been winnin every race she's been in, Jack! It's a dream come true! I figured out how she.Spot?"  
He looked at his best friend with surprise. Spot and Race spit-shook and Spot gave him his famous grin.  
"How are ya, Race?"  
"Great! Where ya been lately?" Race pulled up a chair from one of the tables and sat down at the front of the booth.  
Spot shrugged. "Around. So what's all dis about horses and trainers?"  
It was Race's turn to shrug indifferently. "I got myself a job trainin a horse down at Sheepshed."   
"No kiddin?" Spot was amazed. In the short time he hadn't seen him, Race had already gotten a job and a girl.  
"Yeah, no big deal, though," Race said nonchalantly.   
Jack grinned and slapped Spot's arm. "Cept every time he walks in here it's, 'Hey Jack, Dance's gallop time was cut in half, Mr. White is so proud, Joe keeps sayin I'm gonna be a real horse trainer someday.' No big deal. He's only worked dair fer two days an already he considers himself a pro."  
Race smiled and shrugged. "Well, I wish I could stay, but I need a smoke. You ain't allowed to smoke in da stables-they're fraid a fires." He stood up and waved bye to his friends as he walked out of the restaurant. As soon as he stepped outside, he pulled out a cigar and a match. He lit it and stood against a streetlight, smoking. It was already pitch black, even though it was only eight o'clock. He watched a few figures walk past him, hurrying on their way home, clutching at their bags and packages; their minds set on their apartments, safe and warm. One figure rushed past, pulling at a patched hood around her shoulders.  
Race peered out at the girl. "Ivy?" She jumped a mile. When she recognized the face staring at her, she let out a sigh of despair.  
"Oh, shit," she whispered. She tried walking off, but he reached for her hand, pulling her back.  
"What's goin on here?" Race asked. "You keep slippin off."  
Ivy looked at him silently. "I need to go and you need to leave me alone," she said quietly. Race released his grip on her arm; he was so shocked at what she had said.  
"Why?" he asked. "I didn't do nothin wrong. I try to be nice, and you shove me away. Ivy, youse the most confusing girl I eva met." Ivy turned away from him, grateful, for once, for carrying the hood around.  
Race figured if he told her how he felt, then maybe she wouldn't keep trying to drive him off. He took a deep breath and began talking. "Yer beautiful and interestin, an I just want you ta know dat.well.I-"  
"Shut up!" Ivy almost screamed as she looked Race in the eye. "Shut up, you idiot. I told you to leave me alone."  
Race was stunned and hurt. He threw down his cigar. "Thanks for listening ta me, Ivy." He stuffed his hands in his pocket and walked down the street.  
Ivy watched him go for a second. She bit her lip, thinking what she should do. She breathed a heavy sigh, and took off running after him.  
"You stupid newsie, you had to go and say that," Ivy whispered when she had reached him.  
Race faced her. "Somethin else you wanna say to me?" he asked coldly.  
"Yeah." She quickly looked around the street, then pulled Race closer. "I can't talk here, it ain't safe. You can't talk here either, Race. That's why I wanted you to be quiet. If you want ta hear why, go to the gates off the zoo in Central Park in fifteen minutes. Now act like you hate me."  
"What?!" Race stepped back a few feet.  
Ivy grabbed his arm. "Just in case anyone is watching, it'll look like we've been fighting the whole time, I'll explain later." She waited for his response.  
"Fine," he whispered. He began to shout. "Yeah, sure! Look, why don't you jus go back ta where eva you came from, an leave us alone! I'm sorry I ever met ya!"  
Ivy felt the sting of his words, but reminded herself he was just acting. "Well, me too!" She thought for a second about slapping him, it would seem more realistic, but she decided against it-no need to hurt him if no one was watching.  
Race stomped off in the direction of the park. Ivy frowned on the outside, and grinned on the inside. She would finally be able to tell someone what happened. She quickly made her way to Central Park, pulling at her hood to cover her face. She heard a noise from behind her and jumped a mile. As soon as she had done that, she stopped walking to scold herself.  
"Look at you, scared over a little noise in the street. You used to be the reason why people would jump," she mumbled. She continued walking to the zoo. When she saw the gates, she began to search for Race. He appeared with his hand holding his cap and the other in his pocket.  
"So what is it that you can't tell me in the street?" he asked. She remained silent as she walked over to the path.  
"Just follow me," she said. They walked in silence until they heard a policeman whistling a few yards away.  
"What are we going ta do?" Ivy hissed. "If we run, he'll see us, and if we stand still I'll be caught!"  
Race looked at the cop. She was right; there weren't that many options. Time was running out and still they were just standing in the middle of the path. Ivy drew a sharp breath when she noticed the man only seconds from finding her. Suddenly, Race got an idea.  
"Play along," he said quietly. He pushed back her hood and pulled her off the path against a tree. With a final look at the approaching police officer, he kissed her.  
The cop glanced with a frown at the young couple kissing off to the side. "Ahem," he said. He tapped his club against the tree. Race pulled himself away from her and looked at the cop with embarrassment.  
"What are you two doing out here?" he asked. Race spoke up first.  
"Well, just tryin ta find a little privacy, offica." He hid Ivy's face behind his shoulder, hoping the light was too dim for the man to see.  
"Oh, of course. Does your momma know you're out of bed, boy?"  
Race scowled at the policeman and turned to Ivy. She burrowed herself into the folds of his shirt, all you could see were her eyes.  
"Get home, you two," the man said. Race frowned after him and only let go of his hold on Ivy when the officer was out of sight. Ivy looked him in the eyes for the first time.  
"Thanks," she said. She was still a little dizzy from the kiss. She hadn't expected him to do that.  
"Sure," Race said. He seemed cool and collected, but on the inside he was shaking. What if she ran off because of that? He didn't have to worry though, because Ivy smiled and walked down the path. Race silently sighed his relief and went to join her. She pulled him over to a big weeping willow that was shrouded in darkness.   
"This is the place," she said. "You can see everyone and no one can see you. Or hear you."  
Race examined the tree. He took a seat against the trunk and watched Ivy pace around the little shelter.  
"Would ya quit it? Yer givin me a headache," Race said playfully. Ivy smiled.  
"Alright," she took a deep breath. "First of all, my name is Ivy, you don't have to worry about that."  
Race nodded. Ivy went on. "Second, the police.well, they weren't chasing me.exactly. They were chasing who I was."  
"Who were ya?" he asked.  
Ivy hesitated. "I'm telling you the truth, here. And you can't tell a soul without askin me first, got it?"  
Race said he did. She made him cross his heart and hope to die a few times before she was satisfied.  
"I am, or was, a thief; the best in New York. The cops didn't know my name so, as a joke, they named me-"  
"Elusive," Race interrupted. He stood up. "Udderwise known as El or Elli. I shoulda guessed."  
"Look, Race, it was a long time ago."  
"It was only a few weeks. I remember. 'Elusive Female Thief Baffles Police and Brings Fear to Citizens of New York' The best headline in months. I sold tons of papes."  
"It wasn't my choice to steal. And I didn't hurt anyone or steal from anyone who really needed it. It was a game, Race. A planned-out game and rendezvous with the police.and it was more fun than I had ever had in my life. I got to outsmart every man on the police force; no one could catch me! There were no rules, no boundaries, my life was perfect. Until, I joined this gang. I was walking through a dangerous part of the city when some goons jumped me. I woulda died if it weren't for.this guy and his gang. They told me how they were a band of thieves. They promised to teach me everything they knew, so long as they received part of the goods. It seemed pretty good to me. I would get a safe place to eat and sleep, and the man and his friends seemed kind enough. I profited from the lessons they gave me. Pretty soon I was the best thief in the gang. Then, things started getting harder. The leader posted a set of rules to follow that were all strictly enforced. He also worked out tasks for each member to do. The gang got harder and harder to live by, and one night I was told I might have to kill someone. That minute I packed by bag and left the band."  
She looked at Race with tear-filled eyes. "But I think they're trying to get me back," she said softly. Race had listened to the entire story with awe. Ivy rubbed at her eyes until Race offered his handkerchief.   
"What do you mean, 'get you back'?" he asked.  
Ivy sighed. "He said something about how, if I didn't give him want he wanted, he take me back or turn me in."  
"What? Who?" Race was getting more confused by the second.  
"The leader.He.well, thinks I have something of his and he'll do anything to get it back."  
Race put his arms on her shoulders and looked her in the eye. "What does he think you have, Ivy?"  
She looked away from him. "I.can't tell you," she said. "If you don't mind, I've already pulled out enough bad memories for one night." Her eyes began to fill with tears. One rolled down her cheek, and before she could dry it off, Race wiped it with his thumb.  
"It's ok," he said finally. "I'll walk ya home."  
Ivy blushed. "I don't got a home."  
Race smiled. "Den come home wid me." He kissed her on the cheek and searched her eyes for an answer. Ivy gave a light smile and nodded. He pulled out the handkerchief from her hand and patted her eyes until the tears were gone. Then he reached for her hand and they walked off.  
When the sun lazily rose above the city, Ivy and Race lay dreaming on the roof. Kloppman's yells were enough to rouse Race from sleep, but Ivy remained dreaming. Race tried to wake her up, and she moaned and curled herself into a ball. Race gave up and let her have a few extra minutes while he got dressed. He waited until Kloppman had returned to his desk on the first floor, then climbed in through the window.  
"Geez, Race. Where were ya last night?" Mush asked. Race shrugged. He pulled off his shirt and grabbed a fresh one from out of the pile in his drawer. He sleepily walked to the washroom and picked up a comb. He looked up as he saw Jack behind him.  
"I dought youse was just goin out for a smoke," Jack said.  
Race turned around. "Look, Cowboy, I bumped inta Ivy last night. We decided not ta wake everyone up, so we slept outside. Nuttin happened cept I found out da truth about her."  
"Oh yeah? What's dat?"  
He sighed. "I can't tell ya, Jack. You gotta get her ta tell ya herself." He finished combing his hair and pulled up his suspenders. He walked over to the window and started to climb out.   
"Whatcha doin?" Jack asked.  
"Wakin her up," Race replied. He stepped onto the roof and gently shook her awake. "Mornin, kid."  
She opened one eye and peered out at him. "What time is it?" she mumbled.  
Race pulled out his pocket watch. "Five-dirty." She moaned and rolled over. "Aww, come on," he said. "You was waking up this early yesterday, right?" He grabbed her hand and pulled her to her feet. She glared at him as she shook out her hair.  
"I was only a block from the building," she said. Race laughed.   
"We gotta go out the way we came or Kloppman'll spect something."   
"Fine," she said. Ivy smoothed out the wrinkles in her dress and glanced at the hood. "Mind if I leave this here? I hate carryin it around."  
"Yeah sure," Race said. He pulled her down the fire escape. They jumped off the ladder and stepped out into the street.  
"Hey Higgins, I wanna talk to ya," somebody from behind them said. They turned to see Kid Blink looking at them with a frown. Race groaned inwardly. People only called him Higgins if they were mad at him.  
"Uh, sure Blink," Race said. "Guess I'll see ya at Newspaper Row?" He spoke to Ivy. She nodded and followed the crowd of boys, giving Jack a wide berth.  
"So, whaddaya want?" Race asked. They started to slowly walk.  
Blink frowned. "Where were ya? We waited for you to come in an you never did. I thought some guys had jumped ya or somethin."  
"Well, don't worry-I was on the roof," Race said. He waited for the inevitable question.  
"Wit Ivy?"  
He shrugged. "Yeah. She doesn't have anywheres ta go, Blink. An I wasn't going ta leave her on the streets."  
"I thought you didn't care about her," Blink said quietly.  
Race stopped walking and stared at him in disbelief. "Not care? Are ya kiddin? Blink, she's.da greatest goil in the world!"  
Blink shifted nervously from foot to foot. "But, um, what bout Tibby's?"  
"Look, she made one bad mistake an she stills gotta run from it. She ain't a bad person, though, I know that. I can trust her."  
Blink locked his single blue eye on Race's deep brown ones. "So, do you like her?" he asked.  
Race nodded.  
"Do ya love her?"  
This time he hesitated. He slowly nodded his head and grinned. Blink paused, then put an arm around his shoulder.  
"I trust ya to make the right decision, Race," he said softly. "As fer Ivy, you got my blessin, an I'll try ta talk wid Jack." The two friends exchanged grins and joined the stream of newsies heading to the distribution office. They could see Ivy buying her papers from a distance.  
"You alone, toots?" Oscar Delancey asked.  
"Nope," Ivy said simply. She grabbed her usual 30 papes and walked down the stairs. Morris Delancey stood in her way.  
"You sure?" he asked. He gave a wry grin. Ivy grimaced when she saw it. She jumped down the rest of the way and stood over by the gates, waiting for Race. The brothers followed her, laughing to each other.  
"Why're you hangin round these stupid street rats? If you need someone to warm you up, I'm here," Oscar said. He grabbed her shoulder and began to rub it. Ivy wanted to run away, but a plan for revenge sprang into her mind.   
She smiled endearingly. "You know, I have been thinking about ya lately."  
Morris grinned and moved closer to her.  
Her desire to pay back the vulgar pair outweighed her desire to run, and although she kept an eagle eye out for Race, she couldn't see him approaching. She turned back to the Delanceys.  
"Do you know the little bar in the Red Light District? Burro's?" Ivy asked.  
The brothers exchanged glances and nodded.  
"Meet me in front, tonight at eleven," Ivy said. She was almost having fun giving the Delanceys what they deserved.  
"Why wait til tonight?" Morris asked. He reached for her. Ivy hastily moved away.  
"What if Jack saw? You wouldn't want him to jump in and try to play hero, would you?"  
Oscar shrugged. Morris still looked disappointed, but he kept his place.  
"I'll see ya then," Ivy said sweetly. She walked off, swinging her hips. As soon as she was behind the wall, she broke out laughing. Race and Blink walked up to her sharing a confused look.  
"I-I just pulled one on t-the De-lanceys," she gasped.  
"Scuse me?" Race said.  
"I-I told them I'd meet them in front of Burro's tonight."  
"You what?!" Blink almost shouted.  
"Lemme explain," Ivy said, catching her breath. "Burro's is this little bar in the Red Light District. Anyway, dere's these two.streetwalkers that work the corner in front of the bar. Those women won't be able to keep their hands off em!"  
"So? The Delanceys won't care. Hell, they'd be glad," Race said, controlling his temper.  
"Did I mention they were fifty an fat as barrels?"  
Race and Blink looked at each other for a second before they started laughing. Ivy gave a triumphant smile as Race kissed her forehead.  
"Ain't she great?" he asked. "Jack couldn'ta done bedda."  
"An you should get your papes afore there's none left," Ivy said. Race threw another smile in her direction and filed into the short line of newsies. When they had bought their papes (or at least Blink did, Race managed to convince Weasel he'd eventually pay him back even though he didn't need to) they went out to find Ivy scouring her own.  
"Anything good?" Race asked.  
Ivy shrugged. "Not really. Doesn't matta though. My strength is in other people weakness."  
Race smiled. Ivy closed up her paper and picked up the remaining ones.  
"Guess I'd better be going," she said. She waved good-bye to the boys. Blink spoke up.  
"Uh, Ivy?" he said as he glanced at Race. "Why don'tcha sell wid us?"  
A brief danger sign flashed in Ivy's mind, but she quickly disregarded it.   
"Sure," she said. "Why not?" They took off into the crowd.  
The three worked well together. Ivy could draw a pitying crowd while Blink and Race sold their papers. At midday they were out of papes and had a few extra nickels, thanks to Ivy's stories. She'd even sold a few the way Race and Blink did-making up headlines. When they had counted and split their earnings (each keeping the extra money they had made) they sat down on a bench overlooking a busy street. Blink looked at a large clock on one of the buildings.  
"It's almost 12:30," he said. "Wanna get the afternoon edition?"  
Ivy groaned. "I'm tired. Besides, it's time for lunch. Me an Race didn't get any breakfast."  
"Well it ain't like I had a feast," Blink protested. "Only a few rolls an a glass of water."  
Race stood up and pulled a dropping Ivy to her feet while Blink watched them with a slight smile. He'd come to like Ivy over the course of the morning. He stood up after a second.  
"Tibby's?" he asked.  
"Where else?" Race replied with a shrug. The headed towards the little diner, waving to Snipeshooter and Boots, two younger newsies who often sold together. They were too tired to talk so they made the trip in silence. As they entered Tibby's, Ivy saw something that made her heart skip a beat.  
"Tad!" she cried. She ran across the street and almost into the arms of a young man only a year or two older than her. His dark, wavy hair fell into his surprised moss green eyes as his head snapped around. When he recognized the voice calling his name he broke out into a wide grin.  
"I daresay! 'Tis me little sprite!" he exclaimed in a light Irish accent. "Are ye still alive after all the stunts ye ave pulled?"  
Ivy gave a disapproving frown. "Oh come off it, Tad. And it's Ivy now," she said.  
"Ivy, eh? Given yourself a proper name finally. Well stand nigh, Ivy, an let me ave a good peek at you." He smiled as she stepped back and straightened up. As soon as she had, she snapped her fingers in remembrance.   
"Race!" she said.  
"Eh?" Tad asked. She grabbed his sturdy hand and dragged him to the door of Tibby's. Race and Blink had watched the spectacle wearing a confused expression.  
"Tad, this is Racetrack Higgins and Kid Blink," Ivy said. "Race and Blink, this is Tad, a friend of mine." Tad shook their hands.  
"It's Theodore actually. But I hate that so please call me Tad," he said.  
"Race and Blink are newsies I met," Ivy explained.  
Tad nodded. "Newsies, aye I've eard a them."  
"We were just sitting down for lunch. Why don'tcha join us?"  
Tad shyly put his hands in his pockets. "Be it alright with ye friends."  
Ivy quickly responded. "Oh, they don't mind."  
Tad laughed and playfully tapped her nose. "Quiet, you. Let them speak for their own selves."  
Blink shrugged. "Ain't a problem. Come on, I'm starving." Race glanced over at Tad. He was at least as tall as Jack, maybe taller and he looked like he was a good fighter. He followed Blink to their usual place-the booth in the back. A few newsies dotted the restaurant, but for the most part it was empty. Blink sat on one side while Race slid into the other. Ivy moved next to Race, not exactly wanting to desert Tad, who merely shrugged and took the seat next to Blink. As she sat down, Race put his arm around her.  
"So Ted-" Race began.  
"Tad," Tad interrupted.  
An empty silence hung in the air for a split-second. "Oh, scuse me," Race said. "So Tad, you ain't from around here are ya?"   
It took Tad a minute to decipher Race's speech. When he finally did, he shook his head. "Nay, I'm from Ireland," he said. "'Tis hard to understand these American accents. I haven't been in the city for near seven year."  
"So how'd ya meet Ive?" Blink asked.   
Tad smiled a rakish grin. "On the streets of me hometown, I did. She was singin on the streets in a great bawling voice. She was the most terrible singer I'd ever eard!" Blink laughed but stopped suddenly after receiving a glare from Ivy. "I told er so, too. Walked right up to her an said, 'Good Lord, you're bad.' Well that got me a bloodied nose and bruised cheek."  
"You deserved it, too. I wasn't bad I just.well." Ivy trailed off.  
"Weren't bad! A fine story. But I soon changed that."  
"Whatcha do?" Blink asked. He liked this guy, even though he was positive Race thought otherwise.  
"I taught her right. She be the finest singer I ever heard.now at least. Here, I'll show ye. Ivy, love, hand me my jacket."  
Race had been lazily reclining but stiffened at the 'love' remark. Just who was this guy? Ivy reassured him with a quick kiss on the hand before she got up to bring over his jacket.  
"Thankee," Tad said. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a reed shepherd's pipe. "Whittled it meself, I did. You remember it, don'tcha, sprite?"  
Ivy clapped her hands in joy. All of a sudden, the waiter appeared.  
"Take your order?" he asked in a heavy Polish accent. They quickly told him what they wanted and watched as he lingered a moment longer.  
"Jack? Here?" he asked.  
"Naw," Blink replied. "He's probably still out sellin wid Dave."  
The waiter looked disappointed. "Come later?" Blink shrugged. "Got nice pie for leader. Special treat from cook. Lunch be ready soon." And with that he disappeared.  
"So you know how to play that thing?" Blink asked.  
"Aye, me an Ivy would go doon to Galway city. An I play me pipes and she dances an sings. Lor, our caps would be overflowing with silver coins. 'Twas a mighty fine life er and I led," Tad reminisced. He put the pipe to his lips and played a quick, jumping tune. Ivy hummed along for a few seconds, then broke out into song.  
"I'll tell me ma when I get home the boys won't leave the girls alone, they pulled my hair and they stole my comb, it'll be alright 'til I go home."  
Race listened quietly to her sing. He slid his arm down to her waist and pulled her a little closer. She laid her head on his shoulder and continued singing softly. When the song was finished, everyone in Tibby's (including the manager, waiters, and several cooks) was watching the performers. They erupted into a roar of applause while Tad and Ivy looked at the crowd with surprise.   
"Ive, you got da voice of an angel," Race said quietly. He softly kissed the top of her ear as she blushed in response.  
"Awlright kids, dat's enough," Blink broke in. Tad looked at the couple with a forlorn smile. He opened his mouth to say something, but just then the food arrived.   
"Dat was fast," Race commented. Ivy nodded in agreement and reached for her ham and cheese sandwich.   
"Interesting names ye ave. Kid Blink and Racetrack. I understand Kid Blink, but what of you, Racetrack?" Tad asked between mouthfuls. Race shrugged indifferently.  
"Dis guy practically lives at the races," Blink said. "Knows horses inside out. Even got himself a job down at the tracks."  
Race raised his coke to drink but set it down in a hurry.   
"That reminds me. Mr. White wanted me to get dair at 2 o'clock. Not sure why, though," Race said. He checked his watch. "It's almost one now. We should probably get goin in half an hour, if you guys are comin wid me."  
Blink shrugged. "Yeah sure. Ain't got anything else ta do. Ivy?"  
"I'll come," she replied. "How bout you, Tad?"  
"Nay. Me landlady will string me neck if I don't let up with me rent. I'll be around, dough," Tad said. "'Twas fine meeting your friends, sprite. I best be going though." He finished his lunch and pulled on his coat.  
"Good-aye Blink and Racetrack." He gave Ivy a quick kiss on the cheek. Race restrained a hateful glare. "Good to see ye, sprite."  
"Bye Tad," Ivy waved. Blink said good-bye and kicked Race under the table. Race frowned and gave a half-hearted wave. When he was gone, Race angrily threw down the match he had just blown out.  
"What was that all about?" he asked Ivy. He stuck the cigar in his mouth and looked at her.  
"What?" Ivy asked.  
"Dat, dat Tad kissin ya an callin ya love. I don't like it.  
Ivy began laughing. "Y-you thought m-me an-d Tad-Geez Race, yer hilarious!"  
"Huh?"  
"Tad is like, I don't know, a.big brother or something. I can't even imagine him-" she didn't finished what she had started to say as she started laughing. Blink, who had listened in to the short argument, joined her and soon Race broke the scowl and laughed a little.  
"Well, now that that's settled, Race we'd bedda get goin so we don't have to head for the tracks at a dead run," Blink said. He motioned for the waiter to bring the check. The waiter walked up to the table.  
"Check paid," he said.  
The three newsies glanced at each other.   
"Really?" Ivy asked.  
"Other young man took care," the waiter said. "Told me to say was fine lunch. Wanted to repay gratitude." He collected their empty glasses and plates and headed for the kitchen.  
"Gee, thanks Tad," Ivy said nondescriptly.   
Blink sighed. "Well.let's go." Race and Ivy laughed and stood up. They steered around the other tables and into the clear afternoon.  
"Race, I'd like you to meet Mr. Philip Esell. Phil, this is Anthony 'Racetrack' Higgins."  
Race shook hands with the tall, slender man Mr. White was standing next to.  
"I've heard about your work with Dance. It's amazing how well she's been doing lately. May I ask you how you've managed to do it?" Esell asked.  
Race nervously fiddled with his hat. "Well, she was trained in a real rainy, muddy place, see. So's she's real good at runnin in mud. Da thing is she neva learned how ta run any udder way. She spects everything ta fall through, jus like mud. When she runs on anything arder, she wears herself out working too hard runnin. Plus she ain't warmed up right. I'm just teachin her how ta run on all types a surfaces," Race said. He glanced up at Esell. The middle-aged man gave an approving smile.   
"My Jessie has been neck and neck with Dance, until now," Esell said. "I'd be glad to offer you a job training her like you did Dance."  
Race was speechless. His mouth was dry as sand and he tried to swallow a few times.   
"Uh, Mr. Esell?" he said after a few attempts. "I'm sorry, but I gotta turn ya down. See, I already tole Mr. White here dat I'd train Dance an I can't go back on what I said." He turned to leave but was stopped by the chuckles of White and Esell.  
"Anthony, you're a fine boy," Esell said.   
"Uh, call me Race," Race said. He moved back to where he was standing.  
"You must understand, Race was it?" Race nodded. "You must understand that I wasn't asking you to give up your job, I was asking you if you'd like the opportunity to train another horse. You would arrive here around 3 or 3:30, look after Jessie, then Dance, then give Jessie a quick warm-up," Esell explained. "Oh yes, and I pay the same as Ron does-six dollars a week, two-fifty as a first week trial."  
Race's jaw dropped. "Dat's.six plus, seven, eight, nine, ten, leven.twelve bucks a week!" He would occasionally have five dollars a week, if there was a great headline and if he made a good bet and if somebody stupidly asked him to play some poker, but those weeks were few and far-between.  
"So, can I expect you today?" Esell asked.   
"Yeah!" Race said happily. "You bet!"  
"Excellent," White conceded. "Joseph can show you Jessie and her tack."  
Race paused. "Uh, who is this Jessie anyway? I neva heard of her, at least at Sheepshed."  
"Oh that," Esell said. "Her running name is Golden Opportunity. Jessie is just what my niece calls her." Race restrained a smile. Golden Opportunity was the worst runner he'd ever seen. No wonder this guy wanted a trainer. Well, he'd do his best.  
"So Race, I'll meet with you next Friday, same time. Ron will tell you where," Esell said. "It was a pleasure meeting you." Race shook his outstretched hand. "Ron, good to see you again. Now I must be going. Good afternoon." He pulled on a light coat and set his derby on his head with a debonair ease. Race watched him go and turned to White.  
"I think I gotta go too," he said. "I'll just get started with Jessie and Dance."  
"Alright," White replied. "Will you be staying afterwards to see the races?"  
"I'll try. See ya." Race pulled on his cap and waved good-bye as he exited the large office. He began whistling as he strolled down to the stables.  
"Look! It's Sheepshed's finest new trainer!" Joe called as Race opened the worn-down, wooden doors.  
"Hey Joe." Race grinned as they spit-shook. He pulled out a sugar cube and held it out for Dance.  
"Heya sweetheart," Race said. "Ya miss me?" She nuzzled his face. Race smiled and turned to Joe. "Can you tell me where Jessie is?"  
Joe nodded. He walked down to the far end of the stables. He tossed his head to show Race where she was. Race trotted over. He blew a low whistle when he saw her.  
"Gorgeous," he said. She was too. She had a pure white coat and large, dark eyes. Her man was so light it could almost be called silver, there was no doubt, she was a beautiful horse.  
"Gorgeous is about all she is," Joe said ruefully. "She's got da worst record out of all the horses I've seen. And the worst trainer too."  
"Not anymore she don't," Race said.  
"Whaddaya mean?" he looked at Race with a questioning glance.   
Race grinned. "Starting today, you're looking at Jessie's new trainer."  
Joe gave a snort. "Good-luck Race. She the most pompous, arrogant horse I eva met. Won't get her hooves dirty. Turnin Dance into a first-place winner was hard work that took brains and determination. Turning little miss 'Golden Opportunity' here will take a miracle."  
Race shrugged. "Well, if getting dirty is why she ain't runnin, I'll roll her in the dirt!" Joe grinned. Race certainly had interesting methods. Race opened her door and slipped on her halter. She shied away from him, but calmed down after a few seconds. Race kept one hand on her shoulder and the other on her halter rope. He led her over to the gate of the corral and tied her rope to the post. He briskly combed and fitted her while she impatiently stamped her foot and tossed her beautiful mane. When he was done he put his left foot his the stirrup and swung over. He concentrated on the few tips Joe had given him and walked her to the corral. He looked into the benches and saw Blink and Ivy sitting together.  
"Hey!" Blink shouted. Race waved to them and turned back to Jessie.   
  
Ivy and Blink watched Race walk into the tall building by the tracks. They sauntered to the spectator's area and took a seat at one of the benches while they waited for him to come out.   
"So, you ain't from New Yawk?" Blink asked as they reclined in their seat.  
"Nope," Ivy said. "I don't know where I'm from. I've been walking ever since I could. I went down south, up north, out west, back east, and overseas. But I like this city. Maybe I'll stay."  
Blink nodded and fingered the hem of his shirt. "I figured cause of your name. Ivy ain't exactly common round here."  
"Ain't exactly common round anywhere," Ivy retorted. "But you're one to talk, Kid Blink." She smiled.  
"That ain't my name. It's Jon. Jonathan Flanagan."   
Ivy paused. "I like it. It's got character."  
Blink laughed. "Gee thanks."  
They didn't talk for a little while, but Ivy finally broke the silence.   
"What's it feel like to have a real name? And a place to live?" she asked softly.  
Blink was a little shocked by her question. "I dunno. I can't tell the difference. Don't you got those?"  
Ivy sighed. "No. I don't know who my parents are or where I came from so I don't have a home; not even a last name!" She paused. "Do you have parents?"  
"I used ta. Well, I still do, sorta. I had five younger brothers and sisters and with six children, my folks were takin a beatin. So I ran off one night to be a newsie. I think my oldest brother and sister did the same." Blink glanced at Ivy. She looked like she was in shock.  
"You just left them?" she asked.  
Blink nodded slowly. "If I had stayed, they might have died. It was better that I left."  
Ivy pulled her legs up to her chest and leaned her chin against her knees.   
"I would have stayed," she said. She gave a bitter laugh. "God, when I was a kid I was so lonely."  
Blink moved a little closer to her. "Are ya now?" he asked shyly.  
Ivy thought it over for a minute. "Actually, for once in my life, I'm not." They looked at each other and smiled.  
"Do you like Race?" Blink asked.   
Ivy laughed. "Of course I do. And I like you too, Jonathan Flanagan."  
Blink's face held a shy smile. "No, you know what I mean.do you like him?"  
Ivy's smile dropped. "I.I don't know," she said quickly. That wasn't exactly the truth, but it would be better than if she had said what she wanted to.  
"Don't know" Blink teased. "How do ya not know? You edder do or ya don't."  
Ivy glanced around her. "I'll tell ya later, ok?"  
Blink opened his mouth to say something, but quickly closed it. Finally, after a few minutes, he began to talk.  
"So where'd ya learn ta sing like dat?" he asked.  
Ivy slid down in her seat. "From Tad. Taught me how to dance too."  
"Really?"  
Ivy nodded. "I can waltz and do jigs and reels. Tad taught them all to me. I can even play his pipes a little."  
"I ain't big on musical instruments. Race is, dough. He plays da harmonica."  
Ivy nodded. There was an uncomfortable silence as both of them thought the same thing.  
Ivy sighed. "Alright, I know what you wanna ask me. You wanna know what happened at Tibby's, don'tcha?"  
Blink squirmed uncomfortably in his seat. He eyed Ivy for a moment before he slowly nodded.  
"Look, I can't tell ya know but-"  
"You'll tell me later, right?" Blink interrupted. Ivy scowled.  
"Maybe I won't tell ya at all," she said sullenly. Blink frowned.  
"You gotta stop jumpin on people's backs," he said. She continued to glare at him. "All I'm askin is when is later? I mean, why not now?"  
Ivy almost said something, but turned her head and bit her lip.   
'Damn Bullet,' she thought. 'Always getting in the way. God Blink, I wish I could tell ya.'  
"Ivy?"  
She glanced back at him. Concern filled his ice-blue eye. She turned away.  
"Let's just say it's dangerous if I did tell ya," Ivy said suddenly.  
Blink tossed his head back and grinned.  
"Well I live on feah," he said. Ivy snapped around and looked at him in terror. An image, formally dug deep in the back of her mind, flashed in front of her.  
A dark, empty room. A girl standing in the center of it-alone. There was a sudden flash as a hand held a match. The hand moved to a high table and lit the candle resting on top of it. The room was illuminated in an instant, but there was no sign of the person who had lit the candle. She shivered in the shallow light and asked herself why she was there, in that tiny room and not someplace else, more warm and inviting.  
"Are you scared, Ebba?" and echoing voice asked. She looked around the room for the source.  
"No," Ebba said smoothly. She restrained the fear that was actually welling up in her throat.  
"No?" the voice continued. "Isn't there fear creeping through your veins right now? A lonely girl in a lonely room in a cruel, dark world with no one to turn to; aren't you afraid?"  
Ebba gave a quavering laugh. "I live on feah."  
"Ivy? Ivy wake up!"  
Ivy shuddered as she pulled herself from the haunting aura. She saw Blink and the old benches and the swooping racetrack and took a deep breath.  
"Sorry," she said. "I just.just."  
"You got me worried. Musta been some day dream."  
"Daydream?"  
Blink nodded. "Hey there's Race. Hey!"  
Race turned and waved. He was on the most beautiful horse either Blink or Ivy had ever seen.  
"Hey, that ain't Dance," Blink said.  
"No?" Ivy asked. She was glad the topic was off of her.   
"No, that's some other horse. Dance is a chestnut with a white foreleg," he explained. They watched Race work with the horse in silence. After about an hour and a half he began to have some trouble.  
"When I want you to run through the muddy parts, you run through the muddy parts!" Race cried at the horse. Jessie indignantly neighed and pawed the ground. Race sighed and slid off her saddle. He grabbed the reins and tried to lead her through the barely wet mud. She pulled back and wouldn't budge.  
"Well then we do it da hard way," he muttered. He tied the reins to a fence post and walked over to the mud. He scooped up a handful and crossed over to Jessie.  
"Look," he said, "it's mud. Water and dirt. It won't hurt and it washes right off!" He stuck a finger in the muck.  
"See?" he said as he put out his palm to her. "Water and dirt." She turned her head away from him. Race frowned and streaked his finger down her neck. The dark mud showed up clearly against the brilliant hide. Jessie gave a high-pitched whiny and stamped the ground. Race moved back a few feet and smiled.  
"Ha! You should be glad I didn't give you the handful!" he yelled.  
"Excuse me?"  
Race jumped. He could see Esell looking at him with a confused frown.   
"What is going on here?" he asked.  
Race threw down the mud and wiped his hand on his pants.  
"Uh, I was just-"  
"Just what? I asked you train Jessie, not cover her with mud."  
"Yeah, I know, but well. Jessie is doin so bad cause she's.well, afraid a dirt or doesn't want ta get dirty or something."  
Esell's face turned an angry red. "I'm not going to stand for this excuse, Anthony. You are fired! Get away from my horse! Joseph!" Joe had been sitting on his usual fence post when Esell called his name. He jumped while he was still sitting, nearly falling off.  
"Yes sir?" he asked.  
"Clean Jessie off, then take her to her pen and remove her things."  
"Yes sir." Joe slid off the post and untied the reins.   
"And you," Esell said as he pointed at Race, "are an abomination of a trainer!" At that he turned at left the corral.  
"Don't I even get paid?!" Race yelled after him.  
Esell looked at him with a stony glare.  
"Certainly not!"  
Race swore a few times and kicked the dirt. He stomped over to Dance's pen.  
"I thought your idea was good," Joe said from behind him. Race whirled around to see him with a wet rag. "Miss Priss here needs to run to win, needs to get dirty to run." He ran the rag down her neck. She flared her nostrils as the rivets of water flowed down her leg.  
"Oh be quiet. You've caused enough trouble already," Joe scolded.  
Race pulled out his pocket watch and began playing with it absent-mindedly.  
"Oh well," he muttered. "I didn't need that job.  
Joe grinned. "That's the spirit. Are ya gonna take Dance out now?"  
Race shrugged. "Nothin better ta do." He opened her latch and slipped on the halter. He reached for the currycomb and tied Dance to the post where Jessie had been. As he started to brush her down, Blink and Ivy sauntered into the stables. Race continued to brush Dance; he hadn't seen them enter. Ivy tiptoed behind him and covered his eyes with her hands.  
"Guess who?" she asked, doing a good job of masking her voice.  
Race sighed. "I dunno," he said.  
"Guess!" Ivy insisted.  
"Uh.Specs?"  
Ivy concealed a laugh. "No."  
"Pie-Eater?" Ivy leaned over and kissed the side of his chin.  
"Hmmm, guess not. Davy?"  
Ivy laughed and took away her hands  
"Hey kid," Race said.  
"Lo," Ivy replied.  
Blink leaned against the wall of the stables. "Hiya Race," he said. "Oh, hey Joe. Haven't seen ya in a while."  
"Yup," Joe nodded. He wiped his hands off on the rag. Race pulled Ivy over and wrapped his arms around her waist.  
"An dis beauty here is Ivy," Race said proudly. "Ivy, Joe."  
"Pleased ta meetcha," Ivy said.  
Joe smiled. "The pleasure's all mine."  
"So Race," Blink interrupted. "What jus happened there?"  
"Well," Race started. "I got another job training a horse."  
"A job! Hey, that's great!" Ivy said.  
"Don't get too excited. I got fired."  
"Oh."  
Race shrugged. "He let go of Ivy and picked up the currycomb again. He talked as he brushed Dance.  
"So this horse doesn't want ta get dirty-I dunno why, but she don't. I was tryin to show her that mud ain't anything ta be afraid of an I kinda smeared some on her coat."  
"Yeah, we saw dat," Blink said. "Then that guy came and got angry atcha. We couldn't hear what he was sayin, dough."  
"Dat was Mr. Esell, her owner. Come on sweetie, move over." He said the last part to the horse as he crossed over to brush her other side. "Any ways, he got all angry at me for getting her dirty an fired me. I worked almos a full session an I don't even get paid!" He threw down the currycomb and reached for the long brush.  
"Ya missed a spot," Joe said. Race scowled and picked up the brush again.  
"Spot! That reminds me. I wanted to talk to Spot," Ivy said. "Race, what time is it?  
Race looked at his watch. "Bout 4:15."  
"I gotta get goin, then. I'll try not to be too late." She gave Race a quick kiss on the nose and waved good-bye to Blink and Joe.  
"I'll go afta her," Blink offered. He ran out the same door Ivy did as he yelled his so-longs.  
"Geez, how can Brooklyn be so far away?" Ivy moaned. "We've been walking forever."   
Blink smiled. "Hey look, dere's da bridge. C'on I'll race ya."  
"You'll win!" Ivy shouted. Blink didn't hear her and continued running.  
The shadows stirred.  
"Lo Eb, my dear," Bullet said as he crossed over to where Ivy was standing.  
"What do you want?" Ivy asked tiredly.  
"My happiness," Bullet said.  
"Figures," Ivy muttered under her breath.  
"What was that?" Bullet growled. He roughly grabbed her chin. She stared back at him, her eyes blazing like green fire. He dropped his hold. "Fine. Never mind." He crossed over to a bench and sat down with his ankle resting on his other knee.  
"You've been Miss Popularity lately, haven't you?" he asked calmly.  
Ivy paused. "Why?" she asked quizzically.   
Bullet shrugged. "Just a little reminda that the boys from Shouts are only a hop, skip, and jump away. Wouldn't wantcha to get all cozy, would we?"  
"Oh please, you know the way I work," Ivy retorted.  
Bull stood up. "I should; I taught ya." He locked his gaze with Ivy's. "Wait a minute.wait just a minute! You.you can't be actually serious with these, these newsies. You can't!"  
Ivy almost jumped in shock. "Of course not, don't be stupid," she said quickly, turning away. "A girl's gotta make a livin."  
"Listen, toots," Bull said. "You wanna make a livin, we always got a spare room for ya. Hmm?" He reached into his jacket and pulled out an envelope.  
"This was in Sammy's apartment. It has your name on it."  
Ivy took the envelope and looked it over. On the front the name 'Ebbie' was written in a free, clear hand.  
"You have a way of endangering those you fall in love with. They some how end up dead," Bullet sneered. "Are you going to add another name to the list?"  
"Shut up, Bull," Ivy warned.  
"Fine, fine. You still have.how many? Four days? Four days to give me my prize. Use em, Eb."  
Ivy bit her lip. "What if I do give it to you, or if you find it yourself?"  
Bullet looked at her. "Then I leave you alone, plain and simple. No more following you, no more gimmicks. You live your life," he sighed, "and I won't be in it."  
Ivy smiled, but it quickly disappeared. "And if I don't?"  
"Then I suggest you and your friends leave the city."  
"They're not my friends," Ivy muttered.  
Bull walked up behind her and put his hands on her hips. "Maybe so," he whispered in her ear, "but I hear Tad is in town." Ivy let out a gasp. Bullet smiled and put his hand under her chin. He softly gave her a deep kiss. He let go after a minute and smiled at her.  
"Four days, sweetheart," he murmured. He took his hands off her and disappeared into the alley where he came from. Ivy stood in the pale light for a moment. She shook her head to clear it and absent-mindedly shoved the envelope in her pocket. She ran in the direction Blink was in, even though she knew he had probably made it to the bridge already.  
"Blink!" she yelled as she approached it. She saw him talking with a girl at the entrance.   
"Ahem," Ivy said. Blink didn't noticed and continued to talk.  
"Boo!" she yelled.  
Blink jumped a foot. "Geez Ivy!" he said. "Where ya been?"  
Ivy shrugged. "Got sidetracked. Apparently, so did you."  
Blink blushed. "Uh, well dis is Mae. Mae dis is Ivy. She's a friend a mine."  
Ivy shook hands with the tall, blonde girl Blink was smiling at.  
"Sorry ta interrupt, but we gotta get going before it's too late," Ivy said.   
Blink looked longingly at Mae. "I guess I'll see ya," he said shyly.   
Mae nodded. "I'll be at the Red Curtain tonight. It's a little vaudeville right inside of Brooklyn. You can't miss it."  
"Yeah!" Blink chirped. "I'll try to make it." Ivy rolled her eyes. She grabbed his arm.  
"Bye," Blink called. Mae waved good-bye.  
"Were ya worried bout me?" Ivy asked when they had started to cross the bridge.  
"Huh?" Blink asked. "Oh yeah. Where were you?"  
Ivy shrugged. "So what happens when you go see Spot? Is it as easy as talking to Jack?"  
Blink laughed. "Not really." Ivy raised an eyebrow. "You'll see." They made their way through the complicated twists and turns of Brooklyn until they reached the docks where the Brooklyn newsies made their home. A snub-nosed boy of twelve stopped in front of Blink and Ivy.  
"Whaddaya want?" he sneered.  
"I need to talk to Spot," Ivy replied.  
The kid laughed. "Everyone wants ta tawlk wid Spot."  
"It's an emergency," Blink helped.  
"It can wait," he sneered. He started to walk over to a group of boys when Ivy spun him around. She kneeled down until she could look him straight in the eye. "Listen, shorty," she said, "if you want Spot to get angry cause you didn't let two of his friends talk to him, you're pretty stupid."  
The boy hesitated, then sighed. "Alright, falla me." They walked down the docks to the main area a few yards off. The lounging newsies perked up after seeing Ivy. She received a few whistles and compliments, much to her's and Blink's dismay.  
"Hey doll face," one handsome newsie started. He opened his mouth to say more, but Blink interrupted.  
"Lay off, she's wid Spot," he said quickly. Immediately, the boys quieted down.  
"Maybe I should try that with the Delanceys," Ivy whispered. Blink stifled a laugh.  
"Wait here," the kid said. Blink walked over to a stack of crates and slouched down. There was a blanket hung over a line that acted as a door. From the other side Ivy could hear loud shouts.  
"Jab! Mikey, watch your right! Come on boys, we only have a few days left!" Spot yelled to the two fighters training in the ring.  
"Spot?" the kid asked.  
Spot glanced at him. "You practice your targets like I told you?" He nodded quickly.  
"But Spot-"   
"What!" Spot yelled.  
"Uh.uh.there're these people here ta talk to ya," he said nervously.  
Spot rolled his eyes. "So?"  
"So.they said it was an emoigency," the kid stuttered. Spot ignored him and turned back to the fight. "An one of em's a goil!"  
Spot froze. "Why didn't ya tell me?"  
He shoved through the blanket, nearly causing Ivy to go sprawling on the floor.  
"I thought it'd be you," Spot said to her. He glanced at Blink. "I alsa thought Race'd be with ya."  
"He's working," Ivy said. Spot looked surprised for a moment, then nodded.  
"I'm guessin you got something to tell me?" Spot said. Blink drew a deep breath.  
"I think I betta leave now," Blink said. "Maybe I'll try ta catch Mae. Nice ta see ya, Spot." They spit shook and Blink started to go. "Oh yeah, Ivy I'll be back in bout an hour." Ivy nodded. When he had left, Spot walked up a staircase. He motioned for Ivy to follow him. She cautiously moved up the narrow staircase. When she reached the top she found herself on a roof overlooking the river. Ivy gasped at the sheer beauty of it.  
"This place is." Ivy started. Spot nodded. He put his gold-topped can through his suspender loop and sat down on a wooden box.  
"You want me to tell you why I left you, right?" Ivy asked.  
Spot looked at her. "Do you want to tell me?"  
"No," Ivy said simply.  
"Then I'd hafta be stupid ta make ya tell me."  
Ivy laughed.  
"I'm serious," Spot said. "If I did, you'd just lie." Ivy swallowed her laughter.  
"You've been talking with Jack, haven't you?" she scowled.  
Spot shrugged. "I ain't blamin ya for anything. If I was in yer shoes, I'da done the same thing." He paused. "Good story, by the way."  
"Does Jack believe me?" Ivy asked.  
Spot looked back at the river. "I dunno. He didn't tell me."  
Ivy walked over to where Spot was and took a seat.   
"So how'd ya know I was lyin?" she asked.  
"You didn't check out. I mean, Jack tole me bout Tibby's-an dat I could believe, although why someone'd still be looking for ya, I don't know-but it didn't woik out wid you an me. Ya had ta be lying to save yer skin," Spot explained. He pulled out a cigarette and offered it to Ivy. She politely declined and he took out a match. He lit the cigarette and took a long drag.  
"Did you tell Race?" he asked.  
Ivy shrugged, then hesitated. She slowly nodded.  
Spot squinted through the dying light. "Da truth?" Ivy glared at him.   
"Never mind," he muttered. All of a sudden, he broke out into a grin.  
"So.did he kiss ya?"  
Ivy rolled her eyes. "Maybe," she said.  
Spot's wide grin grew wider. "Maybe?"  
Ivy stood up and crossed her arms. "What is it with you an this topic?"  
Spot shrugged. "Race's me friend."  
"Then ask him," she retorted. She sat back down again.  
"Aw come on," Spot pleaded. He smiled until Ivy looked back at him. "Was it love?"  
Ivy turned away again to hide her smile. "I dunno. I don't have that many kisses to compare it to."  
Spot got a wicked grin on his face. He tapped Ivy's shoulder. When she turned around he leaned in and gave her a long kiss. Ivy was in shock for a second, then jumped back.  
"Are you crazy?" she asked. She remembered Pulitzer and put up her fists.  
"Was it anything like that?" Spot asked.  
Ivy lowered her arms. "N-no," she said warily.  
"Was it better?"  
Ivy hesitated. "Yeah."  
"Then it's love," Spot said simply. He leaned back and pushed his cap over his eyes.  
Ivy examined him. "How do you know?"  
Spot tipped the cap back. "Cause I'm da best kisser in New Yawk."  
Ivy laughed and returned to her seat. As she did, the envelope pushed out of her pocket.  
"Hey, what's dat?" Spot asked.  
Ivy yawned. "What's what?"  
"Dat!" He pointed at the white paper.  
Ivy shoved it deeper down. "Nothin," she said quickly.  
Spot concentrated on her. "Tell me," he ordered.  
Ivy gave a playful smile and shook her head. 'Best to make it seem like some juicy secret,' she thought.  
"Are you ticklish?" Spot asked suddenly. He began to stand up.  
Ivy grinned. "You touch me an I tell Race ya kissed me," Ivy threatened. Spot put down his hands and began fiddling with something around his neck.  
"Hey, what's that?" Ivy questioned. Spot held it out for her to see. It was a steel key, pretty common actually.  
"Why're ya wearing it on a string?" she asked.  
Spot grinned. "That's my secret."  
Ivy shrugged. "Fair enough." She yawned again.  
"Sorry, I've been on my feet all day," she apologized. Spot nodded. "Actually," Ivy continued, "I think I'm gonna get goin."  
Spot opened his mouth to protest.  
"Don't worry, I'll hitch a trolley and be back at the lodging house in fifty minutes," she said.   
"Yeah, well I don't like it," Spot grumbled.   
"Oh well," Ivy replied. "Jus tell Blink I headed back."  
Spot walked her down the stairs.  
"You sure you don't need help getting back? Brooklyn can be hard to get through. I'll have one a my boys go wid ya," Spot said.  
Ivy scowled. "I'm a big girl. Besides, ain't even dark yet." Spot kept frowning. "Gotta go." She started to leave.  
"Ivy-" Spot started. She turned and walked back to him.  
She kissed him on the cheek. "Thanks for worrying bout me," she said. "Bye."  
Spot waved as she walked along the docks.  
  
".oh Danny Boy, oh Danny Boy I love you so," Ivy quietly sang. She had jumped on the back of the first trolley she came to, which brought her to the bridge. From there she walked until she found one heading near Duane Street and silently joined the other poor kids looking for a cheap way home. Now as she walked down the barely familiar streets, she sang the tunes Tad taught her to keep from feeling afraid. As she rounded the corner, she nearly tripped over a boy's cap in the middle of the sidewalk.  
"Can't they pick up their things?" Ivy scowled to herself. She started to walk again, but something drew her back. She picked up the cap. There was something familiar about it. Finally it hit her.  
"Tad," she said softly. "This is Tad's cap." She turned it over and let out a gasp at what she saw. She dropped the cap and ran as fast as she could. A passing midwife took notice of the girl and crossed over to the cap to try and see what the commotion was all about. The cap seemed normal enough. Large, which meant it was for an older boy and a deep brown. The midwife turned to look at the inside and saw there were a few deep cuts in the fabric.  
"Hmm," the old woman speculated. "I wonder what the number four means?"  
  
"An she was da most beautiful goil in da room!" Everyone was sitting around the front room of the Lodging House, listening to the date Mush had just gotten back from.  
"What's her name?" Snoddy asked.  
"Mary," Mush replied.  
"Mary?" Jake exclaimed. "Never thought ya'd go fer a Mary."  
Mush shrugged. "She's special. She's got dese gorgeous brown eyes-" He stopped as the door burst open. Ivy flew in with tears streaming down her face.  
"Ivy?" Mush asked. He pushed his way through the crowd and grabbed her shoulders.  
"What's da matter?" he said softly.  
Ivy tried to mop up the tears. Mush pulled out a handkerchief and handed it to her.  
"Thanks," Ivy whispered and began wiping her eyes. They both realized that they were the point of interest for all the newsies in the room.  
"Uh, hey Bum?" Mush said. "You got dat two cents you owe me?" Bumlets nodded. "Give em to Kloppman; she's stayin da night." He walked up the stairs with his arm around Ivy. A few boys followed him until he gave a mind-your-own-business stare.   
"So what happened? Where're Race an Blink?" Mush said when they had gone upstairs.  
"What?" Snipeshooter asked. He and Boots had been playing cards while Les watched.  
"Never mind," Mush called back. He motioned towards the window. "To the roof?" Ivy gave a weary smile and nodded. They climbed out and took seats along the side. Ivy leaned back against the wall and immediately began shivering. Mush took notice and stood up again.  
"I'll go get you a jacket," he said. She nodded and shifted uncomfortably. There was something that was jabbing her in the side. She reached into her pocket and pulled out the envelope. She tore off the side and started to pull out the letter when Mush returned.  
"Here," he said. "It might be a little on the big side, but it'll keep ya warm."  
"Thanks, Mush," Ivy said graciously. She slid the envelope into the jacket pocket.  
"What happened?" Mush asked again. "Are Blink an Race alright?"  
Ivy nodded. "Blink is in Brooklyn and Race I guess is still at the tracks. Is Jack here?"  
Mush shook his head. "He was meeting some goil at Medda's."  
Ivy didn't have the slightest idea what Medda's was, but she didn't care either. Mush looked at her like he still wanted her to answer the first question he proposed. Ivy sighed.  
"I think a friend of mine is."  
"Is what?" Mush asked.  
Ivy turned her head away. The more people she told, the worse. "Never mind. I was just scared. I thought there was something in the shadows. Sorry, I made a big fuss out of this."  
Mush frowned. "Dat ain't true an I know it."  
Ivy scowled at him. "Yeah, well tough cause it's all you're gonna get."  
Mush took a deep breath. "Ivy, please. Ya got me worried cause ya ran in here cryin an evrythin, and now you don't tell me why? I know I ain't Race, but I still dought maybe.we could be, well, friends."  
Ivy wiped a tear away before it had a chance to fall. ' "Friends." You hear that, kid? Look at you, already getting into trouble,' she thought to herself. She started to open her mouth to say that she didn't need a friend when something stopped her. 'No! I'm not going to turn another person away!' her mind screamed. She bit her tongue.  
"I'd like to have a friend," she started, "but." But what? Wait a week? "But I can't. Not now. Mush, there're so many things going on with me right now, an I don't want to pull another person into it. Please understand."  
Mush shook his head. "I don't, not a bit. But.I can live with that." He smiled. Ivy gave a half-smile and snuggled into the coat.  
"Why was everyone listening to you?" Ivy asked him.  
Mush grinned. "I was relayin the date I had with a coiten young lady."   
"Tell me about it?" Ivy asked.  
"Yeah, sure," Mush replied. He told her about how he had met this girl in Tibby's and showed her how to order and what things were the best. This took an extremely long time, however, because every few seconds he would jump in with another compliment for her. He started on how he asked her to go dancing with him when Race climbed out onto the roof.  
"Race!" Ivy said.  
"Hey kid," Race answered. "Snipes told me you guys were out here." He paused. "What are you guys doing out here?"   
Ivy stood up. "We gotta talk. It has to do with Tad."  
"What about him? Is he ok?" Race asked, more concerned than either he or Ivy would have thought. Ivy glanced at Mush. He rose and left the roof without a sound, lightly patting Race on the shoulder.  
"So what's up?" Race asked. Ivy sat down where she had been before. Race followed her example and leaned back where Mush had been.  
"I was walkin back to here when I tripped over something in the street," Ivy said. Race nodded. "When I looked at it again I saw it was a cap and it look just like Tad's. So I turned it over to look on the inside." she took a ragged breath, "the, uh.number four was slashed deep, almost through the cap itself. I think Tad might be in danger."  
"What?" Race asked, astonished. "But what does da four mean?"  
"Well," Ivy replied. "Do ya remember when I told ya that I had something of the leader's, and he wanted it back?" Race nodded. "I've got four days to give it to him."  
Race stiffened. "Or what?" He almost didn't want to ask.  
Ivy shifted in the large coat. "Have you ever heard of the heart dagger?" she asked, out of the blue.  
"Is that what he wants?" Race questioned softly.  
Ivy shook her head and closed her sea-green eyes. "It's a type of.torture, I guess. When instead of killing your enemy, you kill their family, their friends; anyone that they show an ounce of kindness to, you kill. It's a brutal form of punishment, which eventually causes the victim to become reclusive and bitter. It's pushed more than one person off the edge." She opened her eyes and they were brimming with tears. Race put his arm around her.  
"You think that's gonna happen to you?" he asked. He laid his cheek on her head.  
"If I don't give him want he wants," Ivy said sadly. "That's why I've been all.distant and secretive like that. If he saw me."  
Race suddenly got an idea. "This guy, is he a part a that gang of thieves?" Ivy nodded. "Then, why don't I just turn him in or somethin?"  
Ivy bitterly shook her head. "He's got a million and one alibis. And a million and one ways to elude the police."  
Race sat silently, thinking. "What is it he wants, huh?"  
Ivy stared at her beaten-up shoes. "It's.this jewel called 'the gift of the moon.' Some old legend says that the moon wanted to show the sun she loved him, so she created a jewel and sent a messenger to give it to him. But when the messenger reached the sun, he had lost the jewel. This rich guy had the best jewelers in the world create one for him. Race, I've seen it before. It's the most beautiful thing, coveted by every thief I know. One of the most guarded-over prizes, too. And he, the leader, wanted it more than anything. He spent half his life creating the perfect plan to steal it and he had strictly informed us that no one was to even dare stealing it." She paused. Now was the time to introduce Sammy to the story, and she wasn't exactly comfortable with that.  
"So what happened, kid?" Race asked. He didn't get his answer, however, because Blink happened to saunter out towards them.  
"I heard," he said quickly. "Is Tad alright?" Ivy briefly filled him in and he stood surprised at her story.  
"I guess I should leave now, huh?" Blink said. He started to walk over to the window, but Ivy stopped him.  
"You may as well hear this, too," she said. Blink turned and nodded. He walked next to Ivy and sat down on her other side. Race put his arm around Ivy again and Blink groped in the darkness for her hand.  
"Like I was saying," Ivy continued, "no one was allowed to steal it. One day this new guy," she took a deep breath, "Sammy came into the group. He heard about the jewel and the plan and thought, 'What better way to impress all these people than by stealing this thing?' He snuck into Bullet's room-"  
"Who's Bullet?" Blink interrupted.  
"The leader," Ivy said quickly. "Sammy went into his room and took out the plans and, well, stole the jewel. When Bullet found out someone had stolen it, he nearly went crazy with rage. And when he found out Sammy had done the stealing.I won't go into details, but eventually Sammy was out of the group." She remembered the cold, grim day when she noticed Sammy was gone. She had cried herself to sleep that night. Ivy looked around and noticed Race and Blink were waiting for her to continue her story.   
"Anyway," she said. "Bull thinks I have the jewel. He thinks Sammy gave it to me. I don't know why, but he does. And if I don't hand it over."  
Blink squeezed her hand. "We get da picture," he said.  
Race kissed her cheek. "Don't worry, kid," he reassured her. "If this guy comes afta ya, we'll go afta him."  
"It ain't me I'm worried about. It's you guys," Ivy said. Race and Blink exchanged glances over Ivy's head.   
"Bull, he.he's smart. He's got so many plans and it's so hard ta get around them," Ivy explained. "But I still got four days. That's more than enough time to leave the-"  
"No!" Race exclaimed. "You can't leave an I ain't gonna let ya, you got me?"  
"Race, I don't want to, but what else are we gonna do, huh? Sit around and wait until Bull finds you guys?"  
Race scowled. "Look, tonight you stay here. We'll worry about tomorrow, tomorrow." Ivy tried to argue, but Race stuck to his plan. Grudgingly, Ivy climbed into the bunkroom and threw the coat onto a chair.  
"Shower's in dere, if ya wanna get cleaned up," Blink explained. Ivy almost sighed at the thought of a shower. She'd been living in filth nearly her whole life and she hated it. Blink tossed her a towel and looked skeptically at her ragged dress.  
"You got anythin else ta wear?" he asked. Ivy frowned and shook her head.  
"No problem. We got more dan enough clothes for ya.I think." Ivy nodded and walked into the shower room. She turned on the rivets of water and felt the warm drops on her hand. She took a quick, effective shower, as she knew that hot water was something the boys probably didn't have much of. When she dried off she found a pair of pants, an under shirt, a shirt, and suspenders hanging over the wooden door of the stall. They were beat up and full of patches and holes, but clean. She pulled them on, leaving only the suspenders, and walked into the bunkroom.   
"Well, would ya look at dat," Specs whistled. "Dere is a girl under all dat grime." Race, Blink, Mush, and Ivy all shot him equally glaring looks and he swallowed and retreated down the stairs. Race got up from the poker game he was in and showed Ivy her bed.  
"Snipes is gonna let you use his," Race said. "Ain'tcha, Snipes?"  
"What?" Snipeshooter called.  
"Uh, nothin," Race replied. He turned back to Ivy.  
"I think I'm gonna go to sleep," Ivy said quietly. She started to lie down, but got up quickly to give Race a kiss on the cheek. There were a few hoots and whistles from the newsies, and both Ivy and Race turned crimson.  
"Uh, G'night, Ivy," Race said sheepishly.  
Ivy smiled. "Night."  
  
Jack couldn't believe the night he had. This girl was absolutely amazing. True, it was almost one o'clock, which meant he'd have to get into the lodging house the way Race always did, but if that short, smart-ass Italian could do it, so could he. Jack grabbed the fire escape ladder and pulled himself up. Anne, Anne, Anne. He couldn't stop thinking about her. Just her name made him grin. He nearly lost his footing when he remembered their first dance. When he had finally reached the roof, he walked over to the window. He prayed someone had remembered about him and left it unlocked. To his luck, the old latch snapped open and he found himself inside the pitch-black bunkroom. He made his way silently to the chair where he usually kept his things. His hands recognized his worn coat and he idly picked it up. Who had had it last? Blink, probably. No, it might have been Mush. 'Yeah,' Jack thought. 'Mush wanted to borrow it for his date tonight. Wonder how that went.'  
He carried the jacket with him into the wash room. He lit the candle and set it over on the far sink, so he wouldn't wake anyone up. He was going to just throw his jacket over a sink, when he noticed something was in the pocket. He pulled out a long white envelope with a curious name on it. The envelope was already torn down the side and he could see a letter peeking out. He cautiously pulled it out and held it up to the candle to read.  
To My Ebbie, the gift from the heavens,   
My love, every second I've been away from you has been a second too much. I can't live without you, Ebbie. I know you aren't ready to settle down and seriously consider me, but I hope you can eventually. Ebbie, dearest, my love has only been equaled by one-you. I wish to get away from this hateful life, to live peacefully in a safe, quiet place. I also wish for you to accompany me. Please, will you do me the honor of your hand in marriage? A silly proposal, I know, but I am serious. Answer me, my love.   
Your affectionate beau,   
Sammy  
Jack stared, astonished, at the letter. He glanced down at the bottom and noticed a charcoal sketch of a beautiful girl with large soft eyes and dark curly hair. He dropped the coat. There was no mistake who this was.   
"Ivy," Jack whispered.  
  
When Ivy woke up after a few rough shakes, she almost jumped at what she saw. Instead of Race's grinning face, Jack was glaring at her. It was late morning and all the other newsies had already left. Race decided to let her sleep after a few minutes. If she wanted to sell papers that day, it was her choice.  
"What?" Ivy asked groggily. Jack yanked her out of bed by the collar.  
"We gotta have a little chat, you an me," Jack growled.   
"Look, if you're mad cause I stayed here last night, sorry. It wasn't even my decision!" Ivy pleaded. Jack gave her a look saying that wasn't it.   
"What the hell is this?" he asked angrily. He waved the envelope and letter in front of her face. Ivy tried to grab it.  
"My let-"  
"So it is yours?" Jack asked. Ivy frowned and took it. She quickly scanned the letter. Her eyes went wide when she came to the proposal. 'Oh, shit,' she thought.  
"What's goin on here, Ivy.or should I say Ebbie?" he said.  
"Jack, this-"  
"Who's Sammy? Does Race know this guy?" Jack asked. Ivy shook her head.   
"What's your real name?" he questioned. Ivy found a chair and sat down in it with her face in her hands.  
"Ivy," she murmured. "It's Ivy."  
Jack frowned. "Oh, no kiddin? God, now yer just remindin me of.me."  
Ivy looked up. "What?"  
Jack gave an indifferent shrug. "The letter says your name is Ebbie."  
"Yeah, well the letter is lying." Jack laughed.  
"Yeah sure," he scoffed.   
"I lied to him, not you guys," Ivy explained. Jack stood quietly in thought.  
"Ivy," he started. "As much as I don't like it, Race is head over heels for ya. Now, this guy has proposed to ya and it'll hurt Race bad if you accept." Ivy almost laughed.  
"I can't accept," she said. "Sammy is.he's dead." Jack drew a deep breath.  
"You loved him, didn't you? It said so in the letter," Jack said.   
"Puppy love," Ivy replied. "Sammy, he wouldn't defend me or help me or worry about me.but Race does." She once again looked at Jack. Her eyes were almost fluid blue, causing him to stop in surprise. He'd only seen her eyes green, now they were a clear, sad blue.   
"So what are ya gonna do now?" Jack questioned. Ivy shrugged.  
"Forget about it," she said simply. "My life is too complicated for that. It's too full of problems." She glanced at him. "One of which you are."  
Jack almost scowled at her, but stopped. He remembered that morning when he had just woken up in time to see Race standing over Ivy's bed. Race had looked at her for a second, then brushed away the curls on her forehead and kissed her. He informed the boys that no one was to wake her up; that she was either going to stay at the lodging house or sell papers-it would be her decision. Jack sighed.  
"So what you're sayin is, you want me to get off your back, huh?" Jack said. Ivy nodded.   
"Do you know why I don't like ya?" he asked. Ivy shrugged.  
"Cause Race does an you want only da best fer him?" Ivy said. "An obviously, I'm not the best."   
Jack shook his head. "No, dat ain't it. Ivy, you.there's somethin about ya I can't trust. Maybe it's cause of Tibby's, I dunno. But I can't trust ya, and I can't let Race, either."  
Ivy bit her lip. "Jack, you're as smart as they say," she started. Jack gave a jump. He hadn't expected that.  
"It's probably the best idea in the world not to trust me now; not to even talk to me. Thank God someone out there isn't trying to be my friend."  
Jack's jaw almost dropped. He hadn't detected even the slightest hint of sarcasm.   
"What?" he asked slowly. Ivy jumped, as if she had meant to think it, not say it.   
"Uh.nothing," she said quickly. She tried to get up, but Jack put his arm in front of her, blocking the way.  
"You just said dat you don't want nobody ta be your friend," Jack said quizzically.   
Ivy shrugged. "Talk ta me in a few days," she said sullenly. "I got stuff ta do." She pushed her way through the tall boy and walked over to her bed to pick up her suspenders. She noticed a gray cap along with them and figured Blink had found it for her. She put both on, stuffing her hair into the cap. She gave a final look at Jack, then ran down the stairs.  
'Three more days,' she thought, the words echoing in her mind, 'three days to find it, three days to give it to him, three days to protect them. God, how am I going to last three days?'   
  
"I live on feah..." Ebba gazed silently around the dark room. She waited for the voice's response.   
"You'll fit in well here," came the reply. She looked behind her; sure that's where the voice came from. She came face-to-face with a handsome young man.  
"Come on Ebba, I'll show you where you'll be sleeping," he said. Ebba grinned and followed him.   
  
"Excuse me, can you tell me where Gregory Street is?"  
"Just down the road and keep walking straight, you can't miss it."  
"Thanks." Ivy drew a penny from her pocket and handed it to the small boy. How long had it been since she last walked into those big red doors? It felt like years and years. She was different now. She took a deep breath and pushed open the doors.  
  
"So this is my place. You like it?"  
"It's different," Ebba commented. She looked around the messy apartment, removing an empty bowl from a chair and sat down. "I thought you would be staying with us, though."  
He nodded. "I'm moving in after a little while." He moved over to the kitchen.  
"Hungry?" he asked. Ebba shook her head. She reached for the newspaper on the table. She scanned the headlines, searching for an interesting story. One caught her eye and she began reading. She hardly noticed he was sitting on the arm of the chair, reading over her shoulder.  
"Oh, sorry," he said quickly, sliding off. "Just, the article was interesting."  
Ebba nearly blushed. "It's alright, Sammy," she replied. "Here, you can sit down if you like."  
He grinned and returned to his seat. They began reading again until Ebba looked up and found him an inch from her face. He looked into her eyes and leaned forward.  
  
Ivy shivered as she entered the now barren apartment. The flood of memories was almost overpowering her as she made her way to his room. The acid smell of dried blood filled her nose, causing her to grab her stomach. It hit her that it was his blood and she ran to the bathroom. When she had finished, she leaned her head against the cool porcelain tub.   
"I can't do this," she whispered. "I gotta get out." She looked in the clouded-over mirror, studying her reflection. Her eyes were puffy and red, and her face was a stained mess. She turned on the water and began furiously washing her face. She pulled out the tail of her shirt and dried. With that, she ran out of the apartment and out of the nightmare. She didn't notice where she was walking, but found herself by Newspaper Row.  
"Hey!" someone angrily shouted. Ivy's head snapped up as she saw Oscar and Morris Delancey walking her way.   
"Shit," she swore, under her breath. She turned and quickly walked in the other direction, sure to be in a crowded area. They were right on her tail, however. As she rushed past an alley, they shoved her in.  
"Who the hell do ya think you are, huh?" Morris asked. "Standin us up like dat?" He pushed her against the wall. Oscar wore an equally threatening look.  
"Where'd you get dem pretty clothes, girly?" he asked angrily. "You look like one a dem goddamn newsies." Ivy looked into their faces. She wasn't scared, she wasn't bold, she wasn't indifferent or acting smart. She simply looked at them. Her eyes were a solid gray and seemed empty. They were the color of the ocean on a cloudy, foggy day. Oscar was about to punch her stomach when he stopped, mesmerized by her eyes. He began to tremble on the inside. There was something about those eyes that he didn't like; something almost scary.   
"Let's go, Morris," he said, pulling at his brother's shoulder. Morris snapped his head around to look at Oscar.  
"What?" he asked, shocked.  
Oscar yanked at the shirt. "Come on," he growled. Morris looked once more at Ivy, then scowled and allowed Oscar to pull him away. Ivy watched them go. She didn't care that they were gone and probably wouldn't have cared if they stayed. She needed some way to pass the time, and somewhere to go. She briefly made the decision.  
  
Race ran up the stairs of the Lodging House, hoping to see Ivy sitting on Snipeshooter's bed, waiting for him to return. When he saw nothing, his heart sank an inch. He ran back downstairs.  
"Hey Kloppman," he called, "you seen Ivy anywhere?"  
Kloppman took off his glasses and began to clean them on his shirt. "The young lady? Why she ran out of here a few minutes after Jack went to talk with her."  
Race was furious. What the hell did Jack do to her? Why couldn't he just leave her alone? He ran out the Lodging House, searching for the Manhattan leader. He ran until he recognized the faded red bandanna and black cowboy hat. Race grabbed his shoulder.  
For a second Jack's face held a grin. "Hey Ra-"  
Race pushed him against a wall. Jack scowled and got back up.  
"What's wrong with ya?" he yelled at Race. Race simply pushed him back and kept him there by raising a fist. Jack quieted down. Race hardly ever threw punches--they reminded him too much of his less-than-parental father--but when he did, they were hard.  
"Whatsa matter?" Jack asked, more calm this time.  
"Where's Ivy?" Race growled.  
Jack shrugged. "I dunno," he replied, giving the truth. "She said she had ta go somewheres ta do something."  
Race's face was still stormy. "When did ya talk to her?" he asked, although he already knew the answer.  
"At da Lodging House. I woke her up an-"  
"Jack! I told everybody not ta wake her up. And you went against me."  
Jack frowned. "I'm yer leada."  
Race pushed him against the wall again. "And I'm yer best friend!" He began to draw his fist back, but sighed and dropped it. "Now she's all alone in New York, wid no one dere ta protect her or anything. I gotta find her." He turned to leave.  
"Race!" Jack yelled after him. "She's bad news, Higgins. Leave her alone!" Race erupted in anger. He faced Jack again and hit him in the eye. Jack staggered back and looked at Race in surprise. Race took a deep breath, he immediately regretted it, and ran off.   
  
Ivy was gone. No one had seen her for three days. Race, Blink, and Mush begrudgingly accepted the fact she had left the city. Jack showed up at the Lodging House with a black eye. He quickly told everyone he got it from a run-in with Delanceys after throwing a glance in Race's direction, and refused to say anything else. Race hadn't eaten the first day, hadn't slept, either. The second day he was a wreck. His hands were shaking as kept telling himself maybe she'll come back, maybe she'll come back. By the third day, he realized she was gone. There wasn't a single thing in the world that ever said she was there; Kloppman had thrown away the far-too-often patched dress and hood. Blink had grown more nervous as well. He now shared Ivy's fear of the police, though no one was quite sure why. Spot had yet to hear all this, and they all feared telling him the news.  
Mush had treated it as a good-bye only. He hadn't known her reasons for leaving. Race and Blink didn't care to fill him in, either. It was almost a good thing, too. Mush became the motivator of the group.   
"Hey boys," he'd say as he walked in, a forced smile on his face. "Wanna come wid me ta Tibby's?" Blink would shrug nondescriptly and Race would barely throw him a glance. It took almost the entire hour for Mush to convince Race and Blink to come, even then they would only pick at their food. The weekend slowly passed without much excitement. Monday went by, too, without anyone really noticing. Tuesday would have become just another day without her, but Race decided to glance at his watch.  
"Blink, read me watch. Is it fast?" Race asked as he stuck out the pocket watch to his friend.   
"Huh?" Blink asked. Why does he need to look at his watch?  
"What day does it say?" Race questioned. Blink eyed his friend strangely, but checked the date.  
"Uh.Tuesday," he replied.   
Race scratched his head. "You soah it's Tuesday?" Blink thought a moment, then nodded.  
"Oh," Race said. He leaned back on his bed and thought about what that leader, Bullet, was thinking right now.  
  
"Where the hell is that boy?!" Bullet yelled. He pushed his way through the people until he was facing Ebba. Her curls rested on her thin shoulders as she looked at him. Bullet didn't look at her eyes. They had made him slip up more than once, getting his thoughts all jumbled until the words came out too fast. He had to remain a strong leader.  
"Where's Sammy?" he growled. Ebba shook her head.   
"I don't know, Bull, but I have to talk with you. I'm out, done and through," she said quietly. Every face turned towards her, every pair of eyes was glued to her. Bullet drew a deep breath. No one had ever asked to be let out.  
"Did ya hear me? Out," Ebba said sternly.  
Bull looked nervously around the group. "Yeah.well fine, fine! Go ahead! And when you find that boy you're so attached to, tell him he's out, too." He hated himself for saying that to her, but he had to. He walked over to his office door and gave a final glance at her. She was smiling. A thousand daggers flew at his heart as he walked into the cool, dark room. He swiftly closed the door behind him.  
"I need a smoke," he muttered.  
  
Ivy pulled at the suspenders around her shoulders. They were too big, that she could tell. For three days and three nights she had worn them. She would stop in one place, find out a little information, move on. Meals were few and far-between, but often enough that the pangs of hunger didn't pull her away from her task. She knew she was cutting it close. Too close, probably, but it'd have to do. She was waiting for her big break. She sat down on a stoop, enjoying the sun. She unwillingly let her thoughts drift back to the newsies--her first friends. She briefly wondered if they still remembered about her. She certainly still thought about them. Her thoughts were interrupted as a trolley car rushed past, slowing enough for the conductor to yell out the destination. Ivy recognized it as the street Tibby's was on. She watched it go with a held sigh. She hitched up her suspenders again and stood up. She pulled the cap down and put her hands in her pockets as she started to walk, her mind full of the plans she had made. Suddenly, she stopped. She thought of her plan, then grinned.  
"Aw, who cares?" she asked herself. She ran to catch up with the trolley.  
  
Race remembered it, every second. Some people say when something like that happens, the details are faded and blurry. Not for him, though. Everything, down to the slightest leaf quivering in the breeze, was burned in his mind.   
He had decided to get some fresh air. He was so sick of the bunkroom and the Lodging House. He told Blink he was going for a walk, and Blink said he might as well keep him company. Race pulled out a cigar. He couldn't remember the last time he had one. He flared a match and lit the cigar. Neither Blink nor Race had anywhere in particular to walk to, so long as they got out of the building. They had been walking in a crowded square, talking about a few things just to keep a conversation going. They started to leave the square when a single voice cried out.  
"Race!" He turned. His eyes widened as she ran towards him with a smile on her face. Race reached out his hand for her to take, but they never touched. Blink tried to warn her as a policeman blew a shrill whistle. Instantly a black coach appeared with barred windows. Ivy turned when she heard the whistle, her eyes wide. She tried to duck, tried to run, but they were everywhere. They grabbed her arms and legs and threw her into the coach. She screamed when they first touched her. She lay dazed on the floor of the coach. She ran up again to try and get through the still open doors. They were thrown shut the second she reached them. The narrow window with rusted black bars prevented her to stick out her hand as the cops jumped on the coach and started to drive off.   
Race ran after it, trying to reach her. Soon, thick dust clouds were formed as the cart made its speedy escape. Race stopped running only because it felt like his lungs were about to burst. Blink still stood where he had before, watching the scene with a pained eye. Race waited for the dust to clear with his hat in his hand. When it finally had, the carriage was gone. Race watched a few more seconds, then turned and walked back. When he passed Blink, Blink noticed tears shimmering his eyes. Race ran the back of his sleeve across his face and kept walking. Blink followed him the entire way back to the Lodging House. Neither of them had said a single word. Race climbed the front steps and opened the door. He searched the faces as he entered the front room. When he found the face he was looking for, he stuffed his hat in his pocket and pushed up his sleeves.  
"She's in jail," he said to Jack. Jack turned, surprised that he had actually heard Race's voice.  
"Who?" Jack asked dumbly. Race gave him a look. "Oh. So's that's where she's been? Jail?"  
Race shook his head. "No," he said calmly. "I saw her. I watched when she got arrested, Jack. She's in jail and I can't figure out how the police knew to find her like dat." Jack stood up from the chair he was sitting in.  
"Hey!" he protested. "What're you implyin?"  
Race hesitated. "Did you tell da bulls bout Ivy?"  
Jack scowled. "Tell da bulls bout-? No! I'd neva rat on anudder person, Race. You of all people shoud know dat." Race looked at him quietly. He just had to bring that up, didn't he?   
"All I'm sayin is," Race started with a sigh, "I know you didn't like Ivy, an." Jack took a threatening step towards him. Blink stepped between the two.  
"Race, calm down," he said. Race glanced at him, then back at Jack. Blink looked at the other newsies and grabbed the fronts of Race's and Jack's shirts. He pulled Race and pushed Jack up the stairs. Luckily, the bunkroom was empty. Blink shoved Race onto one bunk and Jack onto the other.  
"Now," Blink said sternly," we talk." He looked at Race for a minute.  
"Race," he said quietly, "it was my fault. I told the bulls bout Ivy."  
"What!" Race erupted. Blink moved back a foot to dodge his fist. "You sold er out! She trusted you an you turned on her!" Jack grabbed Race's arms. Race struggled, but couldn't get Jack to let go. He finally gave up and glared at Blink.  
"Look," Blink said, "I did it to protect her. If she's in jail, she can tell the cops where to find Bull, right? And he can't hurt her so long as she's in jail."  
"And then what?" Race retorted. "She stays in jail for life cause of all da stunts she done." Jack dropped Race's arms. Did he just say what Jack thought he did?  
Blink paled. "Oh. I hadn't dought a dat."  
Race threw up his arms. "Now what?" he asked. Blink shrugged.  
"I dunno," he said softly. Race sighed and collapsed on his bunk. After a few seconds of lying down, he sat up again. He pulled on his cap and walked over to the window. Jack and Blink watched him wordlessly. When Race began to climb out the window, Blink rushed over to him.  
"What're ya doin?" he asked. He grabbed Race's shoulder, but Race merely shrugged it away.  
"I gotta do some thinkin," Race replied. "An maybe I'll tawlk ta Spot." Blink stepped backward and watched Race climb down the fire escape and jump into the street. Jack stood and placed a hand on his shoulder.  
"Geez we're havin a bad day," he said. Blink looked at him strangely, but finally laughed bitterly. Jack grinned back and walked down the stairs. Blink watched him go, then followed.  
  
Ivy huddled into a corner, far from the hulking figure that lay on the bunk above her. Waves of sleep washed over her, but she knew she had to stay awake. The old woman she shared a cell with swore that as soon as Ivy fell asleep, she'd slit her throat. She bit her hand until she tasted her own bittersweet blood. How long could she keep this up? Ivy felt a lump in her throat, and she quickly swallowed it. Her instincts told her that singing something would make her feel better and she kept getting the feeling of a song welling up, begging to be let out. But she also knew her cellmate wouldn't appreciate a song.   
"Elusive, get over here," a policeman barked. Ivy's head snapped around as she looked at him with wide eyes. Ivy stood up and walked as far away from the bunk as she could. The old woman's eyes were shining, looking like two burning coals.   
"You got a visitor," he said. An image of Race flashed through Ivy's mind. She ran her fingers through her tangled hair and glanced at the cop to tell him she was ready to see him. Ivy ran into the room the man pointed to, ready to jump into Race's arms.  
"Hey kid."  
Ivy grinned. "Ra-" she stopped. Her grin fell as she saw Bull standing in the room with a forced smile. The officer shut the door but left the window shade up to be sure Ivy wouldn't escape. He knocked on the glass and put up ten fingers to indicate how much time she had. Bullet nodded at him and took a seat at the long rectangular table. Ivy dropped to the seat across from him.  
"What're you doing here?" Ivy asked quietly.  
"I heard bout you bein arrested," Bullet replied. "An I know what youse is thinkin." Ivy paused. "You gunna turn the whole lot of us in for what we did to you, or at least me." That actually hadn't occurred to her, but at least now she could use it against him.  
"Yeah.so?" she asked. Bull leaned forwards, putting his arms across the table.  
"So you don't tell a soul, an you get off, no problem," Bull said. Ivy almost gasped.  
"You're kidding?" she said, astonished. Bull shook his head. "Well then, I won't tell, but what about the newsies? Are the Shouts Wharf guys ever going to show up one day?"  
Bullet sighed. "No," he said finally. "I'll call them off, but you can't tell."  
Ivy nodded. "And the jewel?"  
Bullet grew angry at the remark. "I know you have it," he growled, "but.no, dammit you get off on that, too." Ivy smiled.  
"Good," she said. She put out her hand to shake. Bullet reached, but stopped suddenly.  
"My God, Eb! What the hell happened to you?" he exclaimed. Ivy glanced down at her hand and wiped off a little of the blood. There wasn't much, but enough to make it look bad.  
"I can't fall asleep," Ivy muttered. "The woman said she'll kill me with a knife." Bullet laughed.  
"An I thought you was smart, Ebba," he said. "No one can conceal a knife in the middle of a prison, sides everyone says that to newcomers, just to scare them. Here tell her this:" He whispered something in her ear. Ivy frowned when she heard it, but nodded. The cop opened the door.  
"Come on, love birds, let's get going," he said tiredly. Ivy started to blush and follow the officer when Bull grabbed her shoulder and spun her around. Before she knew what was happening, she was enveloped in a long kiss. She felt something slip into the pocket of her prison uniform. Bull let her go after a second, then walked out the door. Ivy didn't reach into her pocket until she had gotten back to her cell. She pulled out six little white pills. She recognized them instantly as the stay-awake pills Bullet used when planning out large jobs. She smiled, almost thankful he came and swallowed one. She put the rest in her pocket and huddled back into the corner.  
Race knocked on the side door and waited for a response. A cheerful face opened the door, but the smile quickly faded when he saw Race's sober expression.  
"Can I see-" Race started, but before he could say anything else he was ushered into a room. The man who had opened the door put a finger to his lips and pointed towards the stage. There was a woman performing and he had to be quiet. Race sat down on the steps leading up to the stage, waiting for her to finish. A roar of applause came from the other side of the curtain and Race knew she had ended the song. She rushed out with her curls tangled and matted to her forehead. She was breathing deep and her face was shining with sweat, but she wore a triumphant smile. When she saw Race sitting on the steps, her smile grew larger and she reached out to hug him. Race stood and put out his cigar as she held him for a moment.   
"Well, I haven't seen you in a long time," she said.  
"Heya Medda," Race replied, giving her a peck on the cheek. She ruffled his hair and he moved to sit back on the steps.  
"What's wrong?" she asked, concerned. Race glanced up at her.   
"What isn't?" he said bitterly. Medda pulled Race up.  
"Wait here a minute and I'll get changed," she said. Race watched her disappear behind a door. A few minutes later she returned in a slightly looser, plainer dress.   
"You, my boy, need a drink," she said simply. Race didn't protest as she lead him out around to the bar of the little theater. She ordered a beer for herself and a heavy drink for Race. The bartender set to work on the drinks, not asking or caring if Race was 21. She was with the owner, and so he got whatever he wanted.   
"So, are you going to tell me why you look like you haven't smiled in weeks?" Medda asked as she gripped her beer. Race stared down into the drink.  
"Female troubles," he said, taking a gulp. Medda nodded.  
"You don't know how to tell her you love her? Or maybe she told you she doesn't love you?"  
Race shook his head. "She got arrested."  
Medda set down her drink. "What?" she asked, shocked. Race looked at her.  
"You heard me, arrested. Today, right in front of me and I couldn't do a thing," he said. He took another swallow, frowning at the taste. Medda turned until she was facing him.  
"What did she do to get arrested?" she asked quietly.  
Race shrugged. "Stole some stuff," he replied, not exactly saying the truth.  
"Then she'll be out in a little while, right? And you'll have her back," Medda reasoned.  
"I wish," Race said as he pulled out his money and laid it on the table. Medda waved it away.  
"It's on the house," she said. Race glanced at her and merely pushed the money closer to the bartender.  
"See ya, Medda," Race said. He walked out the theater and pulled on his cap.  
  
"All rise. Case of the female known as Elusive. Charged with theft, robbery, and murder of the first degree."  
Ivy stiffened when she heard the word "murder." She wasn't a murderer, she knew that. She looked over the crowd of people who had come for her trial. To see her get what she deserved. She recognized a few as the people she robbed from; still others were reporters. She realized bitterly that Race would end up selling papers about her trial, the trial of the century.   
"You have heard your charges, how do you plead?" the judge asked her.  
Ivy softened her voice. "Innocent, your honor." She pleaded with her eyes, now a sweet baby blue. The judge remained cold. A young man stood up.  
"We intend to prove this street trash wrong-"  
Ivy jumped forward. "Don't call me street trash!" she said angrily. Tad had taught her to hate the loosely-defined phrase, and she did. The bailiff yanked her back by the arm and smacked her across the cheeks. The judge banged the gavel.  
"Order," he said gruffly. Ivy was confused. She didn't know how the court was supposed to work, but she quickly found herself in a large booth next to the judge. She was made to swear on a Bible, although she had never seen one before.  
"Please tell the court your name," the young man who had spoken out before said.  
Ivy remembered Bullet's words of wisdom not to give away your identity. "I don't have a name," she said.  
The man paced in front of her. "No name? But what did your associates call you?"  
"I don't have any associates," she quickly responded. The man frowned.  
"Not even a friend?" Ivy hesitated.  
"Yeah, course I do," she responded. The man waited for her to continue.  
"It's Ivy," she said sullenly. He nodded, smiling.  
"Ivy was the name of the first woman you stole from, correct?" he asked.  
"No," Ivy said. "I never stole from anyone." She pulled at her sleeve, a nervous habit of hers.  
"Elusive, then. Ivy was the name of the first woman she stole from, correct?" he asked. Ivy shrugged.  
"How should I know?" A few reporters laughed. The man glared at them and cleared his throat.  
"Very well," he said, controlling his anger. "Do you have any proof that you are not Ivy?" She thought for a minute, then smiled.  
"The photo," she said calmly. The young man bristled, but acted dumb.  
"What photo?"  
"Oh please," Ivy said, rolling her eyes. "The only photo ever taken of Elusive. I remember what it looks like. And it doesn't look like me."   
The judge leaned forward in his seat. "Do you have this photo, councilor?"   
"Well, yes.but-"  
"Please present it to the court as exhibit A." The young man opened his mouth to protest, but quickly closed it and reached inside his briefcase. He rummaged through the papers until he found a newspaper clipping. It still seemed fresh and new, not a month old. Ivy caught a glimpse of it as he handed it to the judge. There was a silhouette of a skinny, short young girl with long straight hair. Her face was shrouded in darkness, and the only features you could make out were her clear, light eyes. The judge pulled on his glasses and peered at the photo, then at the face of the young girl.  
  
"You let them take a picture of you?! How could you?" Bullet yelled. Ebba shrugged.  
"I didn't 'let them,' it just sorta happened. I was coming out of the alley with the stuff and there was this photographer. He just took the picture," Ebba reasoned. She looked at him, her eyes a blazing green. Bull calmed down. You could never trust her when her eyes were like that.  
"Fine, fine," Bullet said. "Only one problem, now we gotta change you." He grabbed a fistful of her hair. He pulled out a pair of bright scissors. Ebba shied away from them.  
"You won't cut my hair," she warned.  
"A small price to pay for not bein caught by the cops," he said. With a metallic snip, her long hair was cut short. Where it used to reach almost to her knees, it was now shoulder-length. Ebba stared in shock at the shorn hair. She blinked back the tears in her eyes.  
"I won't get caught again," she whispered.  
  
"Stand in front of me, please, Ivy," the judge said. Ivy stood up, brushed the wrinkles out of her prison garb, and walked out.  
"Mmm-hmmm, now turn around." Ivy did as the judge asked her, being sure to look as tall as possible. The photograph was taken at an angle, making the figure in it to appear small and thin. Ivy had filled out some and gained a few pounds, Bullet made sure of it, but she wasn't sure that it was enough to sway the judge.  
"Well your honor?" the man asked cautiously. He knew this was enough to lose to case, and he didn't want that to happen. God, his fianc‚e would kill him if she found out he failed again.  
The judge removed his glasses. "I see no way this girl could be Elusive. For one thing, Elusive seems to be much younger, smaller at least. Another thing, the girl in the picture had hair that's as straight as possible and this young lady had the curliest hair I've ever seen in my life." Ivy smiled. It had rained the day she the picture was taken, and her hair was still wet and heavy, leaving no room for curls. The councilor cringed.  
"But, your honor, I have the witness form signed out. A young man claimed she was and is Elusive!" he said, pulling out papers and shoving them into the judge's hands.  
"Who was it?" Ivy questioned. She returned to the booth and waited for her response.  
"A young fellow with an eye patch," the councilor said. Ivy almost jumped. Blink! It had to be, who else had an eye patch that knew about her?  
"Do you know him?" the man asked slyly.  
Ivy shook her head to clear the thoughts. "What? Oh, no. At least, I've never met him."  
He perked up hearing this. "Then, you've heard of him?"  
Ivy hesitated then nodded. "A newsie." A plan began to form in her mind. "Actually, I can see why he choose to turn in someone."  
"Oh, and please tell the court why," he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.  
Ivy shrugged. "I've been selling papers for a few day, and I can tell ya, the headlines have been pretty dry. He probably needed something to spice things up and decided to turn some girl, claiming she was Elusive. Pretty sad, huh?" More laughs came from reporters and they were met with more glares from the young man.  
"Are you trying to say that this young man walked into a United States Police Office, claimed to know the whereabouts of one of the most famous thieves in New York, sat down and wrote a report for an hour and half, and walked out again knowing he had ruined the life of one girl and lied to the United States, just so he could make a few extra cents?"  
Ivy nodded. "We're talking newsies, here. Everyday they wake up and shout false headlines so they can make some money. They fake diseases and disabilities so they can make some money. They go out and lie and cheat and steal so they make even a little of a day's pay. They don't care about the people the lie to or the lives they hurt. They care about the money they make and whether someone will give them nickel the next day." Ivy felt a gnawing at the pit of her stomach, and she ignored it. She told herself they were false, empty words and they didn't mean a thing, but she couldn't help feeling guilty. The judge listened to her speak.  
"Councilor? Do you have anything else to say?" he asked. The young man regained his confidence.  
"Yes, your honor," he said, shuffling his papers. "Now, this picture was taken quite a while after Elusive had fist begun to steal, so you'd assume she'd be rather skilled at thievery. And yet, she stopped as someone took her picture. Police have gone over the case in hand and realized this case is a very odd one. The characteristics are equal and alike in every robbery, not including this incident. I am suggesting that the young lady in the photograph is actually not Elusive, that she was merely someone trying to copy the robberies done."  
"That's not true! Elusive is the girl in the picture, everyone thinks so!" Ivy called out shrilly.  
"Even so," the judge said, "based on evidence I've seen and they evidence laid before me in court I must order that you return to the prison for four years. Whereupon you will be free to go. A bail will be allotted at the end of this month. Court is dismissed." He banged the gavel, causing Ivy to cringe. She would have to wait four long years before she'd ever be set free. She lowered her head and let out a cry of pain.  
  
Race sauntered into Tibby's, beaming ear to ear. Blink's relief was evident as he saw his best friend smiling again.   
"So, Race? What's new?" Mush asked, laying a hand on Race's shoulder. Race smiled at him and sat down into the booth.  
"Mr. White gave me my birthday present, taday," Race said.  
Blink sat down across from him. "Well, it is your birthday," he said. "So, what is it?"  
"He gave me da opportunity ta buy Dance," Race replied. Blink and Mush were speechless.  
"You're kidding?" Mush asked. Race shook his head.  
"I'll have ta give him sixty dollars tomorrow," Race said. He leaned in a little bit. "Uh, could you guys spot me a few bucks?" Mush and Blink both erupted into laughter. Race smiled.  
"So, you guys are coming tonight, right?" he asked nervously. They both nodded.  
"Wouldn't miss it for the world," Blink said. Mush and Jack had taken the liberty to plan Race's eighteenth birthday party. Race's face dropped a little.  
"Whatsamatter?" Blink asked. Race shrugged.  
"I hate parties and bein center of attention," he paused, "and birthdays." Mush gave Race a friendly slap.  
"Den suck it up and look like you're having fun," he said. Race smiled at his friend's attempt. He pulled at his pocket watch. 'God, I miss her.'  
  
"Pretty Ivy, don't cry. Only four years for you. Freedom is a second away. I have my life to live in this hole."  
Ivy listened to the old woman's crooning. She had made friends with the cellmate after repeating what Bullet had said, "A knife, maybe, but can you conceal a dagger in the boot?" The woman had smiled then, a place a heavy hand on her shoulder, accepting her as one of the prison's own. She wasn't sure she wanted to be a part of the prison, but it sure as hell beat gnawing on her arm every night. A policeman walked up to her cell.  
"Visitor," he said simply. Ivy glanced at the woman for help. She merely shrugged.  
"Must be for you, darling, I don't got no one to visit me," she said. Ivy frowned and threw back her hair.  
"It better not be Bull," she said under her breath. She hadn't heard from him in for the entire month and a half she'd been in prison. She hadn't heard from anybody, for that matter, not even Race. She let out a heavy sigh as she reached the room.   
"Ten minutes," the officer said. Ivy nodded and walked through the barely familiar door. She could see a tall figure, which ruled out Race, but she didn't recognize him. He was dressed too finely to be a newsie and he had an innocent look on his face--no one from the gang, then.  
"Hey Ivy," he said softly.  
Ivy stared at him for a second. "Jack?" she asked. She wrinkled her nose. "What are you wearing?" Jack sighed and pulled her to a chair.   
"So, what's new?" he asked after a moment.  
Ivy shrugged. "How should I know? I've been stuck inside this stupid hole for a month and a half."  
"Come on, it's only four years, right? Dat ain't that long," Jack said.  
"Not for you, maybe," Ivy said bitterly. "Jack, how old are ya? An Mush an Blink and Race and Spot?"  
Jack seemed surprised at the question. "Me an Blink are eighteen, and Spot and Mush turn eighteen next December."  
"And Race?" Jack studied her blue-green eyes.  
"Eighteen today," he said finally. Ivy's eyes widened.  
"Today's his birthday an I don't even got anything to give im," she said softly.  
"Knowing youse alive an well is good enough fer him. Yer his birthday present," Jack said. Ivy looked at him oddly. "He tried to see ya, but da bulls don't like newsies so's dey didn't let him in, but I got de outfit. I can pull off bein a gentleman's son," he said proudly. Ivy started to laugh, but stopped.  
"You steal that ugly thing?" she asked. Jack frowned.  
"No, but I don't wanna go inta it." Ivy shrugged.  
"So I'm his birthday present, huh?" Jack nodded.  
"Got anything to sat to him?" he asked.  
Ivy bit her lip. "Tell him.tell him I miss him." She turned her head up to look Jack in the eye. "I miss him and the newsies and wearing my own clothes and walking down the street. Tell him that." Jack nodded once.  
"I talked wid him you know, bout you," he said, avoiding her glance.  
"And." Ivy asked, pulling her legs onto the chair.  
"And.I'm," Jack sighed, "sorry. Fer what I did."  
Ivy studied him. "Promise me something. Promise me you'll never do what you did to me to anyone else, please."   
"Sure," he said. Ivy glared at him. "Alright, alright, I promise." She smiled smugly.  
"Good. Then I forgive you." She paused. "Like I was saying, you're 18 now, but in four years you'll be 22. You ever heard of a 22-year-old newsie?"  
Jack laughed, but shook his head.   
"You're going to grow up," Ivy continued. "Get a job, a house.a wife." Jack took a hint.  
"Race'll wait. I know he will. He won't forget either." Ivy glanced at him.  
"Yeah, sure," she mumbled. "Hey, and why did Blink turn me in like that?"  
Jack shrugged. "Something about protecting you. Said you'd be safer in here." Ivy thought this over for a minute.   
"You're on bail now, right? Hey, maybe someone'll come up wid da money," he said.  
"Fifty-five bucks?" Ivy said. She shook her head. "Sides, I'd feel like I was robbin someone." Tears shone in her eyes, but she didn't make a comment.  
Jack started to open his mouth, but the officer walked back in.  
"Times up," he said. Jack stood and watched Ivy walk out the door. He took a step forward and grabbed Ivy into a hug. Ivy was surprised, but she took the opportunity to dry her eyes. Jack let go of her but kept his hands on her shoulders.  
"Don't worry, Ivy, things'll go alright," he said. Ivy just nodded and followed the officer back to her cell.  
  
"So Race, how does it feel to be eighteen?" someone called out. Race gave a half-hearted smile. He wished he could leave, but you can't leave your own party. Race sighed as he glanced at his watch. Eight-thirty. The party would probably end up going until midnight, maybe later. He settled down into his chair.  
"So, birthday boy, you know how to dance?" Race turned, half expecting to see Ivy, half knowing he wouldn't see her for a long time.  
"Oh, heya Mae," Race said. The young girl smiled.  
"Come on Race, for one night forget about her," Mae pleaded. Blink sauntered up behind them and put his arms around her waist.  
"Now, will you please dance with me?" she asked. Race glanced at Blink.  
"It's your only chance, her dance card's full afta that," Blink said, grinning. Mae smiled back and held out her hand to Race.   
"Uh, maybe later," Race quickly responded. Mae sighed and grabbed his arm.  
"Alright, enough reasoning, I see I'll have to accomplish this with force." She pulled him to his feet and dragged him over to the dance floor. Medda had graciously allowed Ivring Hall to be used for the night and she remained sitting at the bar, entertaining some of the younger boys. Race started to dance with the slender blonde girl, almost forgetting how he felt two minutes ago. Mush and Mary waltzed by, smiling at him. When the song finished, Mae hugged him.  
"Happy birthday," she whispered into his ear. Race smiled back, then looked up as Jack crossed over to him.  
"Jack!" Race shouted. Jack smiled. He was glad to have changed out of the worn gray suit. It never seemed to fit him right.   
"So, how's da birthday boy?" he called out. He gave Race a friendly slap on the arm.  
"Fine, Jack. But how's Ivy?" Race asked anxiously. Jack's smile dropped for a second.  
"She's alright. She misses you, and da newsies, but she's alright."  
Race smiled sadly. "I miss er, too, Jacky-boy. How'm gonna last four years widout seein her?" Jack merely glanced at his friend with concern. He pulled him away from the bustle of the party.  
"She's on bail, Race," Jack said.   
Race examined his shoes. "I know. Fer a hundrit bucks, probably."  
Jack shook his head. "No, fifty-five." Race stared at him for a minute. He pushed past him and grabbed his coat from off the table.   
"Race! Where're ya goin?" Jack shouted.  
"Da bank!" Race yelled back. He rushed out the door as Spot walked in.  
"Geez, dair a fire or somethin?" Spot asked. Race grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him along.  
"Come on Spot, it's borin in there anyways," Race said. Spot shoved him away.  
"Whatsamatter with you?" Spot said. Race pulled on his coat.  
"I'm goin to da bank."  
"Why?"  
"Ta get Ivy's bail money," Race said. "Now come on, I don't know when da bank closes." Spot shrugged and followed Race.  
"So, dey even cut da cake yet?"  
  
"Yes young man, can I help you?"  
Race took his hands out of his pocket. "Yeah, I'd like to take some money out."  
The frail young woman sighed. Did these street rats think they could just waltz into a bank and take money?  
"I'm sorry, but-"  
"Look, I've already got money in here, I just need to get it out," Race said hurriedly. The woman looked surprised, but pulled out a form.  
"You need to fill this out," she said, handing him a pen. Race scrawled out the information in his awkward handwriting, stopping every once and a while to think. He finally handed the lady back the form. When she saw the large amount, she looked skeptically at the young man.  
"Are you sure you want to take out all this money?" she asked. Race thought for a minute. He remembered with a sickening feeling that Mr. White had offered Race Dance to own, as a sort of birthday present. Not that White would just hand over a fine horse like that, Race would have to give him sixty dollars. A horse such as Dance could sell for six or seven hundred dollars. Race was getting off easy. It was a chance such as he'd never see again, the chance to own his own racer. He had a few days to make up his mind before the offer closed. Race knew he had to choose between Ivy and Dance.  
"Well, are you going to take out the money or not?" the woman asked, impatient. He wouldn't see Ivy for four long years, but he'll never again have to chance to own Dance, not for a long time anyway. Spot nudged Race with his shoe. Race glanced at him, then back at the form. He reached his hand out.  
  
"Ivy, get over here!" Ivy jumped from the shallow sleep she had been in. She rose and stretched her limbs. The door to her cell was open. Ivy looked the old woman, but she remained sleeping on her top bunk.  
"Another visitor?" she asked warily. The officer shook his head.  
"You're free to go," he said. Ivy's stomach did a flip.  
"What?" she asked, not believing him.  
"I said, you're free to go. Now get outta here."  
"But?" she said, and shrugged. Who was she to argue? She followed the officer through the door, a door she figured she wouldn't go through for another four years. When she recognized the figures standing by the door, she broke out into a run.  
"Race!" she yelled. He turned and grinned. Ivy ran up to him and almost jumped into his arms. He fell back, but caught his balance.  
"Excuse me, miss? Your clothing," a young man said, slipping her a bundle. Ivy looked at it for a second.   
"You can change in there," he said, pointing to a small restroom. Ivy nodded and slipped off after giving Race a grin. She returned in a matter of seconds, wearing the shirt and pants Blink had given her a long time ago. The young man took her uniform and she slid her arm around Race's.  
"I missed you so much," Ivy said softly. Race pulled her close and kissed the top of her head. Spot watched them with a wry smile.  
"Welcome back, Greenleaves," he said. Ivy smiled at his and they turned and left the prison. It wasn't until they had walked almost a full block, when Ivy remembered what Spot had said.  
"Greenleaves?" she asked.  
Spot shrugged. "It's yer newsie nickname. An ivy has, you know, green leaves."  
Ivy smiled. "I like it. Greenleaves." Race grinned, just happy she was with him. He paused.  
"Ivy?" he asked quietly.   
"Mmm?" He stopped walking and took her hand. He knelt down and looked into her eyes.  
"Will you marry me?" he asked solemnly. Ivy looked at him.  
"What?" she said softly.  
"I don't wanna live widout you, not fer a second. I don't have a ring or a fortune or anything, but I want to have you for a wife."  
"Oh, Race, get up." Ivy murmured, pulling him to his feet. Race looked at her, heartbroken.  
"Two seconds ago I was in prison and now you're proposing, it's too much. I can't handle it. Besides, I'm seventeen and you're eighteen--we're too young. I love you, but I can't get married," Ivy explained.  
"Oh," was all Race said. "Den.will you least be my goil?"  
She smiled. "You can bet on it." Race smiled back and pulled her into a kiss. Spot watched them for a minute, then interrupted.  
"Alright, alright. We gotta get back to Medda's before they all realize yer gone and take back the gifts." Race looked disappointed but slid his hand into Ivy's. Ivy smiled into the darkness, happy to be alive.  
  
Tad O'Loughlin walked down the dark, empty streets, whistling a tune to himself. He had read the papers--Ivy was out of jail and safe. A chilling October wind rushed by, slipping down his neck. Tad shivered and pulled up the collar of his worn coat, angry with himself for losing his only cap. He doubled his pace, eager to return to his tiny apartment. He jumped up the front steps, quickly opening the door. Tad threw a quick nod and smile to the new couple who had just moved in and continued up the stairs. He fumbled for his keys, his fingers still cold and numb from the wind. As he entered the apartment, he let out a sigh of relief and dropped the keys onto a table. He threw the door shut while throwing off the thin coat. Tad walked to the kitchen. He was cold and needed something to warm himself up. He took out a can of condensed milk and his cocoa mix. Humming quietly, he poured the contents into a saucepan and lit the stove. He savored the heat for a moment, turning his hands and keeping his face close to the flame until he felt hot and blistered. A blanket was lying across a chair. Tad picked it up and made his way to the couch. He knew he should light one of the lamps, but he preferred to sit in the darkness and think. Outside, the wind screamed.  
"Go ahead and yell, you won't last forever," Tad told it. It replied with another mournful cry.  
"Nothing lasts forever," Tad murmured. "Not the mountains, not the oceans, not great kings or even street trash." He spat out the word, hating it. He shivered, despite the warmth under the blanket. He stood up, gritting his teeth against the rush of cold air that came at him. He noticed a silver light coming from the window. He smiled and began to repeat one of his favorite stories.  
" 'On this night, the lady of the pale complexion resolved to make herself known to the Sun by sending him a token of her affection,' " Tad recited in a mumble. The hot chocolate felt warm enough so he poured it into a mug.  
" 'To this end,' " Tad continued, taking a sip, " 'she asked the man that plays the music to stop playing for a while.' " Tad paused.   
"I never understood that part," he thought out loud, "but I suppose tis the music that makes the world go round. Aye, must be. And the lady wishes to stop her dancin for a bit." He began to recite again, but only after he had drained a little from his cup.   
" 'She asked the man that plays the music to stop playing for a while; then she plucked from the sea of clouds a most marvelous moon stone. Next, with a little gold taken from the dawn sky, she cunningly wrought a splendorous jewel that was the perfect mirror of her love. It had about it a beauty more perfect and more permanent than the soft lip or flashing eye, a beauty that is forever and mocks Time.' " Tad sat for a minute in the darkness, thinking of the passage. He drank the last of his cocoa and placed the mug in the sink to wash later. He rubbed his hands, much warmer now, and walked to the bedroom. The tiny, cramped room had only a few items--Tad's bed, his dresser, and some loose articles of clothing. He opened the last drawer of the dresser and removed a wooden box--plain, save the silver lock on the front. Tad took out a small key and fitted it into the lock, opening it.  
" 'Already the golden light of the late afternoon was coloring the sky, and Jack realized that time was getting short. So, running as fast as his legs would carry him, he set off for the West Country. With not a minute to spare, he reached the shore, and there, spread out over the sea between him and the Sun, was a bright yellow pathway. Without stopping, not even to take a breath, the hare LEAPED.' " Tad chuckled to himself. "Imagine, trusting a precious jewel to a stupid hare. 'On reaching the Sun, Jack was horrified to find he no longer had the jewel.IT WAS GONE!' " At that Tad opened the box, revealing the pinnacle of gold and silver and stone.  
"And I have it," he said, smiling. He gave a soft laugh as the wind whipped around him, howling.   



End file.
